


Through the Flames

by Kinetix



Category: A Song of Ice and Fire - George R. R. Martin, Game of Thrones (TV)
Genre: Abusive Relationships, Anger Management, Angst, Drama, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Emotional Manipulation, Explicit Language, Explicit Sexual Content, F/M, Past Rape/Non-con, Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder - PTSD, Ramsay is his own warning
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-01-22
Updated: 2015-03-22
Packaged: 2018-03-08 15:55:46
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 7
Words: 27,145
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3214949
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Kinetix/pseuds/Kinetix
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The streets hardened him, and the Marines saved him; now back and trying to start over Gendry meets Arya, a young woman with her own dark past. Trying to cope they come to lean on each other, but will it be enough? Will they be able to save one another, or will the fires of the past ignite and consume them? -*Repost*-</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1, Gendry

**Author's Note:**

> This story is back after some serious reworking and plot changes in later chapters. If you aren't familiar I hope you enjoy! And for that that are, I hope you like the direction it goes!! Thanks, and as always comments are always appreciated!

There was nowhere else to go, after coming home from back to back deployments there was no going back. The marines gave him honorable discharge and he returned to a home that he no longer knew. Boston was a big city, but it wasn’t big enough for him to forget the reasons why he joined the marines; he thought that the time away would let him come back feeling better about his life. But it only felt like a haunted memory that  came back to taunt  him the minute he stepped foot on the now unfamiliar streets.

Growing up in foster care with too many children in the system and not enough people to care had been rough, and he adapted. When he turned 18 he already had a substantial rap sheet and the local police department knew him by name; theft, vandalism, and more than a few assault charges marred his background. Usually it was others who instigated and attacked him first, he was a big guy and other street kids constantly wanted to prove themselves by beating the biggest guy around. The streets hardened him and his size helped him, at 6’4” with a bulky frame and muscle from years of activity he was a force to be reckoned with, with a temper as explosive and unpredictable as a live  volcano . Only one person ever cared about him and tried to make him change, but they were long gone and he was once more alone. Looking back at his life and the choices he made Gendry wonders how he was even able to enlist as opposed to finding himself in jail. 

When he was told that he was being discharged it was almost a blessing he thought. Before he left for this final deployment, before his mentor died, he went ‘home’ to see him and met a girl. He thought that she was the one who could bring him around, make him an honest man and settle down with. In his teens he was more than willing to be a one-night stand, and was cocky enough not to care about his reputation as a man whore. Women loved his deep blue eyes and dark hair, it didn’t hurt that he wasn’t the worst looking chap in the face either. But then he met Margaery and he thought that everything in his life was finally starting to turn around, he was wrong. So now he’s moving out of the city, determined to leave the life he knew  behind and start fresh with the life that he wanted , which is what brought him here. Gendry stares up at  the  2 story duplex he was now going to be living in. 

The rent was reasonable and with only his pension and savings to live on until he could find stable work it was the best that he could find. Dorchester was far enough from the city that he felt he could forget, but close enough that it was slightly comforting being near familiar territory. It was a nice building, and the landlord was a sweet elderly woman who was running the building after her husband passed away; the apartment he was living in was on the second floor which was fine by Gendry. He and the neighbor across the hall, a woman and her daughter, shared a separate back entrance from the two neighbors downstairs who used the front entrance. Keys in hand and only the small duffle stuffed with the few personal belongings he had Gendry heads to the back of the building and smiles as he walks up the stairs to his fresh start.

Opening the door he feels almost like a kid on Christmas, he’s anxious and excited at the same time. The apartment is spacious, a small entryway that leads to a large living space the kitchen to the right. Dropping his bag to the dark hardwood floor he takes in the ample windows and light that streams in before walking through the living room to the hallway with his bedroom, spare room, and bathroom. Standing in the doorframe of his bedroom he looks at the light tan walls and large walk-in closet and snorts at the thought of his simple duffel bag sitting in the space.

His phone starts buzzing in his jeans pocket and he fumbles for a second trying to get it out and answered, still unused to the electronic device he initially purchased at Margaery’s request. The furniture company he bought from was outside waiting for him to show them up. Walking out he sees that he has a text message, it’s from her; she’s begging for him to meet up, to allow her to explain herself but Gendry has been around too much to be fooled so he starts trying to type out a response. His head down and brow furrowed in concentration and frustration as he walks out his front door while his big fingers fumble against the smooth screen  as he tries to spell out his refusal to meet with her.

He is so involved in trying to figure out the small device that he doesn’t see the other person walking down the hall, fumbling in a large bag to get keys out, the impact of a body hitting against his stomach and chest draws Gendry out of his thoughts.

“Shit!” He reaches out to stabilize the wobbling figure before he realizes he’s grabbing a thin bare arm. A large  purse  and grocery bag with fruit and random jars falls to the floor and items roll around his feet.

Large  steel eyes gaze up at him and he looks down at the startled young woman. Her face is thin, yet rounded, giving him the impression that she’s much younger than himself ‘probably a teen, maybe the neighbors daughter’ he thinks as he quickly looks her over. He towers over her and it isn’t until she shifts and her gaze rushes away that Gendry lets her arm go and steps away from her. She’s a slip of a thing he realizes when he sweeps a quick eye over her body.

He hears a small gurgle before he notices the girl is holding a baby. 

“Oh my god, are you alright?” He asks, panicked that he may have hurt the baby when he ran into them.

Cradling the baby to her chest and shoulder she responds, “We’re fine, just scared me a bit is all.” Her voice is deeper than he expects, almost making her appear older than she looks, still feminine but definitely deceiving compared to her frame and stature.

“I’m so sorry; I wasn’t watching where I was going, I’m still trying to get used to this thing…”He holds up the cell as if it’s offensive and offers her a small smile.

“It’s alright.” She pushes a dark brown lock of her wavy short hair away from her face.

“I’m Gendry, I’m moving in today. Here.” He bends and starts gathering the groceries and bags that he knocked from her hands.

Kneeling the girl starts using her free arm to help gather her items, “I’m Arya, I live across the hall. This…this is  Lyanna .” 

He smiles lightly at her and offers his hand, when she hesitates he realizes that she’s probably still shaken up. He doesn’t blame her, because he wasn’t watching where he was going he could have easily knocked her over given how small she was compared to him, and while that was bad enough the fact that she was holding a child was even more terrifying considering what could have happened to either one of them. Eventually her small hand slips into his, “It’s nice to meet you Gendry.”

When all the items were off the floor and she was gathering the bags around her wrist and shoulder he stood once more. Looking down at her he could see a gray dress with white ruffles on the child, her dark hair is almost blending in with Arya’s but her face is obscured by the young woman’s neck. Arya herself looks awkward holding the child against her small body, though the infant sits as if molded perfectly for the girl’s slight curves, “babysitting?”

She looks surprised by his question, and for a second he doesn’t understand the look in her eyes, “Something like that.”

“Well, I really am sorry. But I have to go before my movers leave.” A short nod and the girl is walking away from him. 

By the time the movers and he are done carrying all the furniture up the flight of stairs Gendry is exhausted. It took 3 hours, but it was worth it, his apartment begins to feel a bit more homely now that he has proper living sets and a bed to sleep in. He unpacks the bedding and curtains that he ordered and by 8 p.m. he feels fully accomplished. Tomorrow he would need to go out and get supplies for his kitchen, but for now he uses his cell to call a local pizza place suggested to him by one of the movers and orders some food.  When he’s done eating he gathers a towel and body wash from his duffel and heads into the shower.

The water is cool and refreshing as Gendry begins to soap up his chest and arms, working the wash into his hair he relishes the feeling of the water washing away the sweat and grime of the day. Soon the water stutters and the stream becomes weaker, Gendry tries to fiddle with the controls but suddenly  a loud groan  from the pipes is the only warning he gets as the water shuts off. 

“Fuck!” Soap runs into his eyes and he walks to the sink to try. When nothing comes out Gendry curses, he rubs his eye until the sting of the wash dissipates and he grabs his cell. It’s 9:20 and too late to bother the elderly  land lord , she probably just forgot to call the water company to let them know there was a new tenant. Sighing he wraps the towel around his lower half and holds it tightly as he grabs some clothes out of his duffel.

Peering out into the hall to make sure that no one was lurking he quickly walks across and knocks on the neighbors’ door. ‘Great Gen, almost kill the daughter in the morning and then introduce yourself practically naked to the mother; you’re starting off on a good foot with your new neighbors’

Knocking sharply he prays that someone is home, the soap is starting to dry and make his skin itch and the suds running from his hair are coming dangerously close to re-entering his eyes. His head drops when he hears footsteps approaching the door.

The chain is left on but the door opens a crack to reveal the girl from earlier, Arya he recalls. 

“Hi, sorry to bother you but it seems Mrs. Fowler hasn’t had my water turned on yet and I didn’t realize I was using the last of what was in the pipes until it shut off on me….is your mother home?”

Her steel gray eyes look up at him, her face is blank, but after a few moments she closes the door and he hears the scrape of the chain being undone. Sighing in relief Gendry enters when she opens the door to him. 

The apartment is the same size as his but there are pictures hanging and  lit  lamps emit soft light  around the room, soft music is playing and he realizes how much more welcoming this place feels compared to any other home he’d been in before. Arya stands with her body tense, arms crossed over her chest as she keeps her head down to avoid looking at his exposed skin.

“The bathrooms through the back, the door is open.” 

“Um, thanks. I just need to rinse off, I’ll be out in a few minutes.”

When he finishes rinsing off and towels off his body Gendry looks around the bathroom. There is a box of diapers and wipes in the open closet, a crate of tub toys in the corner. As he walks out into the hallway he becomes more aware of his surroundings than he was while trying to scuffle into the shower.

Cloth totes sit along the hall filled with a variety of children’s books and toys. He feels like a fool by the time he gets into the living room though he is more comfortable talking to Arya now that he’s at least dressed he watches as she picks the infant out of a playpen he hadn’t realized was set up on the other side of the couch. The infant squirms in her arms as Arya eyes him from the distance. She gives him the same blank stare, but when he stands still and she understands that he isn’t leaving right away her face turns to something that scares him. She looks afraid.

“Arya, I’m sorry…If I offended you earlier, I didn’t realize…Mrs. Fowler only told me that there was a woman living next door with her daughter she didn’t say anything else.”

“It’s fine.”

“She looks like you.” That causes a small smile to breach her lips as she looks down at the child.

It isn’t a lie. Now that he’s able to get a good look at her Gendry can see the same steely gray eyes and dark hair, also the same facial structure.

“Yeah, she does.” 


	2. Chapter 2, Arya

When she got off work the first thing Arya did was go home and put on a sports bra and spandex shorts before going on a long run. After a quick shower she changed into a simple pair of light skinny jeans and a flowing black top with white buttons that trailed along her spine. She loosely pins back the long bangs that perpetually fall in her face and sighed as she struggles to tame her wildly wavy shoulder length hair. She really wishes she could lay down and sleep after working an 8 hour re-stocking shift at the bar but she can’t, Lyanna’s sitter is waiting for her; thankfully tomorrow is Sunday and she has it and Monday off so she can go to bed early and sleep in. Slipping her wallet out of her work bag she practically runs down the steps of her walk-up. 

It’s a quick walk a block from her apartment to the sitter’s and by 9 am she’s picking up her daughter. The elderly woman coos about how well behaved Lyanna was and tells Arya that she works too hard and needs to relax a little. She’s kind, Arya knows, but the last thing she can afford is to relax. As much as she hates her job the pay is good and the tips are excellent, but every penny went into taking care of Lyanna and bills. Tuesday thru Thursdays she worked a regular 9-5 at the bar, setting up and taking care of inventory before serving at the bar while the lunch crowd came in for the cheap pub food. Friday and Saturday she works 9 pm-5am while Lyanna sleeps at the sitters. Weekdays aren’t bad, average clientele coming in for their lunch breaks and her uniform isn’t too terrible to deal with. Just a simple tee with the bar logo printed on the back and either jeans or yoga pants.But later in the week and on the weekend the club became more ill reputed and her uniform more revealing, but the tips got better as the alcohol flowed and her flesh was revealed. It was awful and she hated the licentious advances and comments, but it was what she needed to do for her daughter. 

Being a young mother hasn’t been easy, but she wouldn’t give Lyanna up for anything in the world, her little girl is her life. She throws the diaper bag over her shoulder and thanks the woman before heading to the bus stop. Normally if she was going out with Lyanna she would bring a carrier but it was currently at her ex’s and she didn’t have a spare. 

She got a few glances from the other passengers on the bus, but she was used to the dirty stares and glances by now. Being a young mother was bad enough, but Arya knew she looked even younger than she actually was and people always assumed. She heard it all before, when people at school found out rumors spread like wildfire and she’d been called whore and every possible synonym that at this point the words no longer stung when they were thrown at her. 

After a quick trip grocery shopping Arya catches another bus to take her home. She plays with Lyanna on the bus and makes faces at her, smiling as her daughter laughs and reaches up to play with her face. The load is heavy, but Arya doesn’t mind the weight of her daughter as she walks up the steps to her apartment. She is just coming to the top of the stairs when she reaches into the diaper bag with her free arm to try and find her keys, lost somewhere in the bottom of the seemingly endless bag. Her eyes look into the dark bag as she begins moving aside diapers and wipes to try and find the little gold signal she needs. 

Her hand finally grips the cool metal when she suddenly is halted by what feels like a brick wall, she loses her balance under the impact and stares up wide eyed as a large warmth wraps around her free arm. Clutching Lyanna tightly to her chest she quickly thanks the Gods that someone caught her before something happened. The bags are falling to the floor as she looks up into deep blue eyes. A man stands before her and the first thing that goes through her head is, ‘He’s big’, at full height she’s sure that her 5’1” frame would barely come to his broad chest. Lyanna seems to sense a change in her mother and starts to babble, to which Arya lightly bounces her to try and calm her as the man let’s go of her bicep. 

His body is large and she can see the heavily defined muscles easily through his tight black tee his eyes are raking over her body and Arya tenses under his gaze, she stops breathing when he looks at Lyanna and she instinctively pulls her baby tighter “Oh my god, are you alright?” 

“We’re fine, just scared me a bit is all.” She doesn’t know what else to say to the strange man standing in her hallway, at first she thought it was him, her ex or one of his friends, but relief was beginning to settle as she realizes that he is probably just her new neighbor. 

“I’m so sorry; I wasn’t watching where I was going, I’m still trying to get used to this thing…” As he holds up a cell phone and grimaces at it Arya laughs lightly at his attempts to try and ease the tension, “It’s alright.” 

Nervously Arya tucks a strand of her loose bangs behind her ear. 

“I’m Gendry, I’m moving in today. Here…” As he bends to start picking up her forgotten groceries Arya looks down briefly at him. He’s handsome and she flushes at the thought, it’s the first in a long time that she’s talked to a man who wasn’t a customer at the bar or Lyanna’s father. 

‘Don’t be such a girl Arya, he’s only a man’ she scolds herself internally before kneeling to help gather the rest of her things, “I’m Arya, I live across the hall. This…this is Lyanna.” 

His hand extends toward her and at first she is stunned, most men she’s used to dealing with aren’t this kind and she wonders if there is going to be strings attached to his kindness. She learned long ago not trust anyone, especially men, and while this Gendry seemed like a nice enough bloke she’d been fooled before. Carefully she wills her hand into his, “It’s nice to meet you Gendry.” 

Once they’ve gathered everything Arya stands and shifts Lyanna against her while she rebalances with the weight of her bags once more. She can feel his eyes on her and suddenly he asks her, “babysitting?” 

Her eyes widen a fraction as she stares at him, most of the time people assume Lyanna is her sister and occasionally they just guess that she’s an average unwed teen mother and their disgust permeates, but the innocence of his question and lightness of his tone surprises her. There is no disguised questioning, he doesn’t seem to be testing her, but the way he is looking at her now clenches Arya’s throat. He thinks I’m just a child, and while she’s mis-aged often for some reason from this man it leaves her crestfallen “something like that.” 

“Well, I really am sorry. But I have to go before my movers leave.” He gives her a small smile which she returns before moving to her own door. Confused and slightly shaken from what just happened. 

After Arya met Lyanna’s father a lot changed, before him she never paid attention to guys and they typically ignored the small stick thin girl with practically no curves. Half the men she was attracted to dismissed her, she was too small and her features betrayed her age making her appear younger with her round face and under-developed body; she often was teased and even compared to a prepubescent boy by many of her female classmates because of it. Her friends, the few that she allowed herself to trust, all told her that she was beautiful and it was only her self esteem that kept her from seeing it. She was always too self-conscious to believe any of them, and after everything…she hated herself. 

She hated the way men would look at her and confuse her for a child, she hated that even though she was attracted to them the fact that her body was so lanky, small, and void of femininity they weren’t seriously attracted to her. When men were drunk and she was in her weekend bar uniform men would hit on her, but it was more middle-aged men or frat boys thinking she was a barely legal piece of ass and the thrill of her youngness was what tempted them, not actually her. 

While her thoughts plague her and Gendry passes through her mind Arya puts Lyanna down for a nap and starts working on her online class work to try and get her mind off of the encounter and the emotional havoc it started inside her. When Lyanna wakes she plays with her daughter until it’s time for dinner. 

Before she knows it the sun is fading quickly and after a bath for Lyanna and a shower for her she dims the various lamps around her apartment and puts on some classical music to try and soothe the infant to sleep. When a sharp knock raps at her door Arya jumps and looks to the clock hanging above the kitchen stove, it’s almost 9:30 at night and she furrows her brow, putting down the text book she'd been randomly highlighting she spared a glance over toward the playpen where Lyanna was trying to pull her bare foot into her toothless mouth letting out a small chuckle. 

Her door doesn’t have a peephole so she keeps the chain secured when she opens the door to see who could be calling. 

The first thing that she sees is a wide well muscled tan chest marred by two ragged circular scars one just above the right nipple and the other slightly lower and a few inches closer to the center of the chest. Almost perfectly defined abs and a sharp V dip lower, another ragged scar on the left of the individual mars the otherwise smooth skin. A white towel is being held to cover lower and Arya looks up to see familiar blue eyes and a shock of wet and matted black hair. Gendry. 

“Hi, sorry to bother you but it seems Mrs. Fowler hasn’t had my water turned on yet and I didn’t realize I was using the last of what was in the pipes until it shut off on me….is your mother home?” 

Arya isn’t surprised, at the fact that Mrs. Fowler forgot or that he still assumed that she wasn’t the adult of the household; but it doesn’t make the twinge of disappointment stop. She closes the door briefly to unlock it, she didn’t think he would lie about his water being off; when she moved in Mrs. Fowler forgot to have the electric turned on and Arya spent the first night using flashlights and candles to navigate through her place, thankfully before Lyanna was born. 

It takes a few seconds until the lock comes undone but she moves aside and lets him enter her apartment. Uncomfortable and uneasy about having the strange man in her apartment Arya crosses her arms over her chest and fidgets as he walks in, a blush spreads across her cheeks and she lowers her gaze to keep from roaming his body once more, “The bathrooms through the back, the door is open.” 

 

“Um, thanks. I just need to rinse off, I’ll be out in a few minutes.” 

When he walks back Arya looks up, his back is just as muscled as his front there are still 3 scars and she wonders briefly what happened to him. A large black tattoo covers his right shoulder but from dim lighting she can’t make out what it is. 

She hears the shower starting and she quickly goes to busy herself with clearing the dishes off the kitchen counter where her dinner had been abandoned halfway between class work and bath time. In what seems like no time at all the door of the bathroom is opening and still hesitant about Gendry she goes to gather Lyanna, just out of instinct. 

As he steps into the living room he stops and just stares at them, and Arya feels insecure at having let a stranger enter her home. She usually isn’t this stupid, isn’t this careless, not after what happened. Not after him. Why did she let Gendry into her home this late at night? She just watches him, waiting. 

“Arya, I’m sorry…If I offended you earlier, I didn’t realize…Mrs. Fowler only told me that there was a woman living next door with her daughter she didn’t say anything else.” 

That surprised her; was he really apologizing to her for not realizing that Lyanna was her daughter? No one has ever apologized for mistaking her before, usually if anything at all they get indignant and judgmental at the fact. 

“It’s fine.” 

“She looks like you.” He motions toward the wriggling Lyanna who is currently trying to grab her own feet again. 

Arya glances down at her baby and smiles, “Yeah she does.”


	3. Chapter 3, Gendry

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Thanks so much for the positive response to this story!

The room is dark, he stumbles over himself as the pain radiating in his chest and side become so overwhelming that the throbbing  ache is all he is aware of. His brain tells him to turn around, that he needs to run as far from this place as he can physically manage to get; and while he can feel the fear starting to swirl in his gut he can't leave, there is something here that he needs to find. 

Pressing further into the cavernous space he tries to abate the pain  in his chest by putting pressure with his hands over the places that the pain seemed to be radiating from. Why was he here? What was it that he needed to find? He can feel his breathing start to become strained and a cold wave crashes over him as light starts to illuminate a few feet in front of him. It's hazy but bright as a shadow emerges from the almost blinding light.

"It can't be..." Gendry's voice quakes as the shadow begins to strengthen.

"It can." The voice is so familiar the sound of it sends a terrified shiver up his spine, "You left me Gendry, you could have come back but you JUST LEFT ME!" 

The scream is so anguished, so full of hatred and blame. Gendry shakes his head and chokes on his own words as they thicken in his mouth, "I tried...I went back but I couldn't..."

"You came back  to see me die Waters, and then you just left me there! My family... my wife, my children, they had to bury an empty box because you left me!  and now I'm going to do the same for you." The face becomes clearer now, as a bloody hand reaches out to press against his chest.

When the hand pulls away fire erupts where the ache previously was thrumming, pulling his own hands away Gendry sees scarlet covering his hands and rolling between his fingers, the pain becomes too much and he coughs the dark red spurting from his mouth onto the floor. Falling to his knees as he struggles to breath Gendry stares up into the man's face now clear as day in front of him.

"The difference between us, is that I had people who noticed I didn't come back."

A tremor rockets through him and Gendry sinks to the floor as the darkness of his blood begins to spill out and pool around him. 

"I'm sorry..."

Shooting up the cotton of his sheet sticks to the sweat drenched skin of his torso, his eyes fly open and Gendry pants as he frantically looks around the room searching for the other man. When he finally realizes that he's in his bed, in his home, back in Boston the panic starts to subside and when his heartrate eventually slows to a steady hum  Gendry  falls back against the now soaked bedding of his mattress frowning as he sighs out in frustration. Running a heavy hand over his face his head turns to look at the bedside table where the glowing red lights of his alarm clock inform him that it's only 4:36 on this particular Sunday  morning.

The nightmares have become increasingly worse since he's been back, at first they were just reliving the same day over and over again but with time they've begun to evolve into these macabre visions that plague his sleep. In an attempt to try and avoid the nightmares Gendry has gotten used to going days without sleep, simply surviving on the cheap coffee he's been brewing by the potful. But eventually he has to give in, sooner or later it overwhelms him and the darkness creeps in until the terrors of his dreamscape once more take hold.

With a groan Gendry pushes himself out of the drenched sheets and trudges to his closet, if his mind wasn't going to let him relax enough for sleep the least he could do was use the early wake up call as a motivator to go out for a super early morning run. Pulling on his sneakers and a random tee to accompany the athletic shorts he fell asleep in he grabs a few small bills before  heading  toward the street to try and clear his head.

The streets are quiet, and Gendry appreciates the still calm of the early morning; taking in how the dusky first light of the sunrise paints the horizon with reds and orange s before the slim yellow sun begins to su rface over the  skyline. On his way back he stops at the corner quick mart and picks up a local paper.

It was June when he moved in and after living off of his savings and having bought the necessities for his apartment  the first thing he did to keep himself from going stir-crazy was to get a gym membership. Exercising had always helped him funnel his energy, his anger, and helped him focus so lifting a few days a week and running days in between helped him relieve the tension.  But Gendry was getting restless not having stable work to occupy his mind during the long dragging hours of the day.

Walking up the back entrance stairs Gendry wants nothing more than to climb into his shower and wash the sweat away. Lifting the paper in front of him he starts reading the front page story as he reaches the hallway until he feels an obstacle in his way. Looking down he sees a familiar mop of messy brunette waves. 

Big gray eyes look up at him and he can see her smiling as Arya cuts off the apology he was about to make, "We really do need to stop meeting like this."

He takes a step back and starts to try and connect the words to his mouth that want to come out and say that he's so sorry for not watching where he was going again, but they get caught in his throat as his eyes roam over her figure.

Gendry knew that Arya was slight, even though she tried to  hide it under baggy tops and loose fitting jeans it was easy enough to see but what he wasn't expecting was the toned stomach muscles and slight but perky breasts being held in the black sports bra. He didn't recognize the lean supple thighs and feminine curve of her hips covered tightly with matching black spandex running shorts , the flair of her lower half emphasized by her small stature. Her skin is pale and flawlessly smooth. 

She just scrunches her eyebrows as she looks up into his face, silver eyes locking with his own as she waits for him to respond. 

Awkwardly he clears his throat, "S--Sorry, I wasn't really able to sleep. I thought a run would help wake me up, must still be a bit groggy. Sorry."

With great difficulty Gendry tries to keep his eyes focused on hers, rather than letting them trail down her body again. 'She's probably thinking you're a complete creep , first you insult her as a mother then show up at her place pretty much naked and now you're practically eye-fucking her in the hallway! Get a grip Waters!' his mind is screaming at him, telling him how much of a pervert he is, 'you don't even know how old she is!'

"Right, well I have to get going if I want to shower before I have to go pick up  Lyanna ." She gives him a quick smile before saying goodbye and heading toward the stairs.

As she's walking away and he moves to get his key from the pocket of his shorts  his resolve breaks and he can't help as his neck swivels to take in the image of  her from the back. It's a thing of beauty in his opinion, her bum is high and firm as she walks and he can't help but appreciate  the view, he'd  always been a sucker for a nice ass.  Just before she reaches the stairs she turns back and he can see her bite her lip when she sees him looking at her, he swears he can see a blush blossom on her cheeks before she quickly descends the stairs. Smiling to himself at her reaction he decides that it's going to be a good day.

It takes a few tries but finally he secures a job working as a mechanic for a local auto body shop, the garage is well-kept and the owner doesn’t seem to mind that Gendry has no formal training. He worked on machines before he joined the marines, he even thought about going to trade school before ultimately deciding to enlist;  at first the man was hesi tant to offer the position when Gendry admitted to having a police record. But after explaining that he was never convicted of anything more than petty theft when he was living on the streets and stole food from a local grocery store the man,  Yoren , decided to give him a chance. Though he warned that if there were any problems he was going to cut Gendry loose immediately. So with the understanding between them Gendry finally started working.

His coworkers are decent enough and he had no trouble fitting in after their first week of hesitation. The work was hard and the hours long, but Gendry doesn’t mind; he is happy to be working and even happier that no one cares to ask him too many questions about his life before  or during  the military, just the occasional ‘where are you from?’ and ‘ did you do any tours ?’ but those were easy enough to answer. 

Finally set to a schedule of coming and going Gendry finds that he's been running into Arya most nights, carrying  Lyanna  home after picking her up from the sitter once she's gotten off work. They exchange pleasantries but nothing more. Gendry expects to see others with the young woman, like  Lyanna's  father or a boyfriend maybe, but it's always just the young woman and her daughter. 

After a month at the shop three of his co-workers invite him out to a local bar after they finish their Friday shift, throughout the weeks they will occasionally ask him  to join on their 'guy nights', but Gendry declines respectfully.  A man going by the nickname  Hot Pie was the most talkative with Gendry, helping him when he needs a hand; his real name is Ben but he enjoys baking with his wife in his spare time and would often bring treats in for the others workers w ho  accordingly  bestowed the moniker on their slightly overweight but jovial friend .  Lommy is a squirrely fellow who enjoys poking fun at his co-workers but was also the first to lend a hand when someon e needs help. Then there was Tom, a loud and bawdy older man who passes his time  and everyone else's by  singing crude songs  that echo through the  shop.

It took some convincing and almost never ending prodding from Hot Pie before Gendry finally gave in. When he was younger he had a problem with alcohol. He would over-indulge and with his hot temper and alcoholic haze Gendry often got into drunken fights that most times he provoked for one reason or another.  So after joining the marines he decided to cut back on the drinking, avoiding the temptation as much as possible. But with some gentle prodding from the others Gendry reluctantly agreed, he had to at least try and make friends if he planned on starting over in life. And these guys seemed like they would be good company, so putting his reservations aside he becomes determined to not let his past life haunt him into becoming a hermit for the rest of his life.

A long shower and change of clothes after work and Gendry was heading toward the address they had given him. They promised that the bar was worth it with decent food and good music, plenty of pool tables, darts, all the employees are hot females who wear revealing outfits, and all three men attested to having met and taken home their fare share of women from the place. The three men also explained that sometimes the bar promotes a “Gentleman’s Night” where the bar installs poles to their stage and employees, as well as some other women  brought in for the night go up and dance for tips.  Which was the reason they were going to this particular bar for their evening outing.

The August air is warm in his lungs as he walks the 3 blocks from his apartment to the bar, The Mocking Bird. Tom is standing outside smoking a cigarette when Gendry finally makes it to the correct address, a handshake greeting and a few minutes pass while Tom finishes his smoke telling Gendry that the others were inside at the bar getting drinks, they have a booth near the stage. The space is crowded with bodies, the tables and booths all taken. Pressing though the  masses  Gendry is glad he only wore a tee shirt and jeans, the place was by no means a fancy establishment and there were men crowding in behind them, the air inside is cool from the air conditioning but being around so many people is hot and uncomfortable.

“We came on a good night!” Tom shouts over the crowd and music playing.

“Why’s that?” 

“ They've got the pole up , at 11 the ladies are going to start hitting the stage!” Tom turns and waggles his eyebrows before pressing against the bar.

Gendry smi les  a t his friends enthusiasm  a nd looks around, the only women he  can see  are carrying trays with food and drinks on them; they are clad in assorted colors of  tight  tank tops with the name of the bar stretched across their breasts tight black shorts and yoga pants clad their legs. As Gendry waits for Tom to get his drink he looks toward the stage, thankfully being so tall he’s able to see over the majority of the crowd, there is a silver dance pole in the center of a small stage just as the guys promised. Slightly disappointed that he wasn’t going to be able to bring anyone home Gendry thought at least a show was a nice consolation.  Suddenly thoughts of his ex start to bombard him and his smile falls as Gendry freshly opens the wounds that he was still trying to suppress, he didn't need any more problems.

When Tom finally moves Gendry pushes into the spot he vacated, the bartender closest to him has her back turned but he sees that she’s wearing a black tank that matches the others and  yoga pants that hug slender legs tightly ; he hums approvingly to himself as he stares at her ass.  It's the perfect handful from his estimate and the perky globes look sexy as sin with the black material stretched over them. She turns quickly and at first he doesn’t believe the silver eyes and pouty lips that drop open when he looks into her face.

“Gendry? What are you doing here?” He can tell now that there is a platform behind the bar as she stands a few inches taller than normal. 

Arya  bites her lip and tugs self-consciously at the hem of her tank top .

“I got a job a few weeks ago, some of my co-workers finally talked me into coming out!” He yells over the crowd.

She nods her head for a second before asking him what she can get for him. After ordering a beer from the tap he watches as she practically dances around the other women while retrieving his drink, she smiles and laughs when one of them , a curvy brunette,  nudges her and whispers in her ear. She looks effortless and beautiful , even as she rolls her eyes and playfully swats the other woman for whatever it was she said.

Handing him the cold beer she quickly takes the cash he offers and walks away again for a second to get his change.

“See you around Arya.”

Quickly he pushes back through the crowd to settle into the booth next to Hot Pie. He really wants another beer when he finally drains his but is too afraid to see Arya again , jumping at the offer when Tom asks if he'd like another round .  His eyes occasionally trail to the bar between conversations and he watches Arya, admiring the way she glides back and forth smiling here and there with different customers and bartenders. But she never looked over the crowd toward him. Maybe it was just him, whenever they talk one on one she is shy and reserved, looking down rather than up into his face.  Yet here she seemed so at ease it was as if she were born doing it .

As women start taking the stage the crowd gets more raucous, some of the women he recognizes from looking around earlier, others he decide came just to perform. 

“You said that the employees danced?” He asks Hot Pie.

“Yeah,  usually it's local performers who come in to dance, but sometimes the ladies working will go up and give it a go; some of them are actually really good .”

“Do any of the bartenders go up?” Gendry doesn’t know why he asks it, but the beer has started to warm his face and loosened his lips so it would seem.  He shakes his head as he feels the alcohol fuzzing his brain and thinks that for such a big guy his tolerance level is almost laughably low.

“ Sometimes. T here’s one with bright red hair and tattoos who goes up but I don’t think she’s here tonight. There’s also a brunette that is pretty good, really flexibl e...great tits .” Hot Pie takes another chug of beer and cheers when the woman on the pole finally hops off and bows to the crowd .

“Which brunette? The short one?” Gendry turns to look toward Arya once more.

Tom cuts in, well into his 4 th  cup of beer, with a laugh he asks, “You got a thing for Arya?”

“I was just curious…She’s my neighbor, I never really thought I would run into her in a place like this. That’s all.”

“Is that all? That why you been  starin ’ at her every few minutes?”  Lommy  asks.

Gendry’s face burns with embarrassment at being called out, “Hardly, she doesn’t look like she’s even legal to be working here; I was just wondering.”

“She got up once or twice,  when she first started working here  but that was at least a year or two ago ; she could move pretty well though.” Hot Pie explains to him.

As the night progresses and the women get more and more provocative  while the beers flow Gendry starts to imagine them shorter, with curly brunette hair and silver eyes. He glances at the bar one last time and sees Arya laughing heartily with one of the girls behind the bar. Saying his goodbyes he practically stumbles out of the bar, it takes a minute before he gathers his bearings in the fresh air and begins walking home thinking about grey eyes and pouty lips.

Saturday Gendry wakes up with his first hangover in years but after a few bottles of water and some Tylenol he feels better, by midday he decides to go for a run to completely clear his head. Pulling on a pair of black athletic shorts and a white tank before slipping on his sneakers Gendry does a quick stretch before heading out. Running through the neighborhood around his building is fairly easy, the streets are level and there is little traffic so crossing the streets isn’t much of a hazard. When he’s gone about 3 miles he can feel the food in his stomach churning and decides to head back. 

His heart is pounding as he pushes himself hard for the last mile, his head starts to hurt and he can feel his mouth going dry from dehydration. When his building is in site he sees the familiar build of his neighbor getting off the bus and he slows down a few paces behind laughing lightly as he watches Arya struggling with a bunch of stuffed grocery bags that are pulling harshly at her wrists. She’s wearing dark skinny jeans and an oversized white tee that falls haphazardly off one shoulder.

“Want some help?” He asks behind her.

Arya jumps and lets out a little squeal before staring up at him.

“Sorry! I didn’t mean to scare you.”

“It’s alright.” Her chest is rising and falling rapidly and Gendry instantly regrets surprising her.

Reaching out he grabs as many of the bags as he can, and falls into step next to her , she offers a quick  “thanks.”

“So, how long have you worked at the Mocking Bird ? ”  Mentally slapping himself, Gendry rolls his eyes upward wishing he had a better brain to mouth filter some times.

She stares up at him for a minute before dropping her gaze to the pavement, “Since I was 18, I needed money for college and  one of my friends was able to get my an in with the boss . It wasn’t the greatest job  option but the tips  have always been  really good. When I got pregnant with  Lya  I had to drop out  of school temporarily  and my boss felt bad so he offered me a full-time bartending position.”

“Well that was good of him.”

“I guess…he can be  kind of a prick  sometimes . But I  didn't have a lot of options  and I really needed the money.”

“And now?”

She  pushes open the door to their  steps and he follows behind her as she climbs up, “At first I wasn’t planning to stay but now I started taking classes again and with  Lyanna  I need the steady income.  And eventually I got a pay raise and I know it’s not…the best job, to say the least…but I’m doing it because  it's more money than someone in my shoes could hope to make,  I’m a college dropout with no one else to help me  and an infant to support ."

By the time they reach the top of the stairs Arya has grown quiet and Gendry can see the tenseness in her shoulders. As she opens her door she hesitates for a second before letting him enter, they drop the bags on the kitchen floor and he watches as she avoids making eye contact by busying herself with unloading the groceries.

“I’m sorry.”

Sighing heavily she crosses her arms and leans against the counter, “No, you didn’t do anything wrong. It’s just…when people find out I work at the Mocking Bird they make assumptions and then with  Lya  they just, it isn’t easy to explain and most times people don’t give me the chance.”

Biting her lower lip she studies his face, waiting for his reaction. Gendry feels bad for prying and instantly regrets it when he can see how much talking about it has hurt Arya. But he could relate to her in a way, when he was younger it was more common for people to assume that because he got in fights and did things wrong that it was all he was and it took a lot of compassion and care from one man to show him that your mistakes shouldn’t define you.

“I know, better than you would think, that it isn’t always easy talking about your past and trying to get people to comprehend. No one’s perfect but lots of people find it easier to judge others for their shortcomings rather than hear them out or offer understanding.” He looks into her eyes, gray burning into blue as she stares into him.

“Would you like to come over for dinner tomorrow night?  Lyanna  is staying with her father this week end  and I need something to do on my day off.”

Well that was surprising, “Sure.”

“Does 7 work for you?”

“Yeah.”

“Alright, well I guess I will see you tomorrow.”

Walking across the hall Gendry replays the change in Arya, taken back by her boldness in asking him over, usually she seemed uncomfortable and awkward in his presence. The few conversations they had in the hall had been brief and she typically avoided eye contact with him, shrugging he guesses that maybe she is just shy like he originally thought and was finally warming up to him.

Sunday morning  Gendry went out and bought a bottle of wine to take over to Arya’s for dinner, praying that the girl was old enough to drink and wouldn’t think he were a creep trying to get her drunk. He was stuck on what type to get, typically a beer drinker himself, and he decided to ask the man behind the register for suggestions with a few questions and admitting that he had no idea what she was cooking and that it was just a casual dinner between friends the man offered a simple fruity dessert wine that was ambiguous enough to go with most meals.

As the day ticked away he busied himself watching television and playing with his phone. When the time came he grabbed the wine from the fridge and walked across the hall, taking a deep breath before knocking. 


	4. Chapter 4, Arya

Sunday morning Arya came home and instantly passed out on her couch, not even removing her shoes before she fell asleep. By late afternoon she wakes up and finally showers. While washing herself she thinks over the events with Gendry yesterday, she doesn’t know quite what it was about him that drew her to ask him over but there was sadness in his eyes when he told her about understanding how she felt. It was a look that she recognized; she saw it in her own eyes more than she would like to think about it.

Climbing out of the shower she dressed in a plain white tee and started preparing the ingredients for their dinner. When all the prep work was done it was almost 5:30 so she began preheating the oven. After putting the dish in and setting a timer she went back into her room and tried to decide what to wear.

It wasn’t as if this were a date or anything, it was just dinner between…neighbors, friends? Whatever her and Gendry were this wasn’t a date, but it didn’t mean that she didn’t want to try and look good. Most of her skinny jeans were on the looser side, she typically got them a size bigger than what she actually needed, but she finally settled on one of the only pairs true to fit. They were black with a few distressed holes about the knee and hugged her hips and thighs more than she was used to but they made her butt look good. She chose a flowing royal blue camisole with black piping along the top seam ,  it wasn’t much different from the tops she normally wore  from the front but  the back was much lower and exposed more skin with the straps forming an ‘H’ shape across her shoulders. The top was also long enough that it covered her stomach but if she reached too far it rose up and revealed just the smallest sliver of her stomach. Normally with how low the back was she would forgo a bra, but she was self conscious about her breasts since she was still breast feeding so she grabbed a nude strapless and pulled it on.

H er hair was completely dry now  so Arya walks into her bathroom  a n d runs  some mousse through it to tame the wildness of her waves then taking the front sections she made two thick braids one on each side near the crown of her head and pinned them to the back to restrain her bangs. By the time she was done she could smell the vegetables cooking and the apartment reminded her of her old life. Of her mother and home, of things she’ll never have again.

Sometimes Arya will get in these moods, where she misses home and wants to do something to remind her of the life she used to know. Sighing she thinks about the blessing in disguise that she was given in the form of  Lyanna  and uses the images of her happy and beautiful daughter and it helps will the threatening tears away. She misses her old life, but they were the ones who shut her out and she was making it on her own without them. 

Pulling the casserole out of the oven she checks to make sure it’s done properly and when she is satisfied she starts tearing lettuce for salads. Scrolling through the music on her laptop she turns on a playlist of smooth jazz. Humming along softly she jumps when a sharp knock echoes through the apartment. 

Gendry looked handsome as ever in light jeans and a tight black  v-neck  tee as he steps into the apartment, he rubs the back of his neck nervously, “I um—I felt bad not helping with dinner so I brought wine. The guy at the store said it was good with desserts.”

He lifts the bottle and presents it to her.

“Thanks, I’ll put it in the fridge for now…do you want a beer? It’s going to be a few minutes until I can serve dinner.”

The smile on his face is warm as she hands him a bottle  of IPA he'd never heard of , he props himself on one of the stools at the kitchen island while she stands across from him and cuts vegetables into a salad bowl. His eyes graze over her face, the smooth expanse void of makeup. Her hair is messy, yet put together enough to show him that she tried to look presentable; the wildness of her waves and the way they fell into her face made him long to reach out and brush them away. He swallowed at the thought of running his hands over the pale skin of her face.

“Arya how old are you?”

Laughter bubbles out from her mouth, it sounds like tinkling bells and it makes Gendry smile, “I’m 2 2 . How long have you been trying to figure it out?”

“Since I met you, I honestly thought you were maybe 16 or 17 at most.”

Arya laughs even heartier, “You’re face! You look as if you’re relieved! How old are you?!”

“I’m 28. And well, I am I guess…I mean, I did risk supplying a minor with alcohol!”

They laugh together and after a few moments she continues to work on the salad. 

“So, what brings you to Dorchester?” She asks not looking up from her work.

Lifting the beer to his lips Gendry takes a large gulp before looking back to her, “Do you want the long or short version?”

“I have all night.”

“If I tell you my story you have to tell me yours, deal?”

With that Arya does lift her head. For a minute she thinks that he’s joking, though his face is still and serious. No one has ever offered to listen to her before, and no one certainly reached out to her without ulterior motives. She doesn’t trust Gendry, but for some reason she thinks that she could eventually so she agrees.

 “Well, I grew up in Boston. I didn’t really have the best childhood, my dad left the minute my mom found out she was pregnant and she died in a car accident when I was 5. So I got stuck in foster care and bounced from home to home waiting for someone to finally adopt me, but no one did. I got into a lot of trouble in my teens and ended up getting put on probation, my probate officer, Mott, was actually pretty great. He spent a lot of time with me and showed me how to work on cars to keep  me occupied and  out of trouble.” Gendry paused and took another sip of his beer, he watched Arya and tried to gauge what she was thinking but as usual her face revealed little emotion as she continued working on the salad.

“When I turned 18 I joined the marines, I thought the discipline would finally straighten me out and give  the structure that I needed. I did three tours in Afghanistan and would come  back and spend  time with the Mott's  for a few weeks and hang out with some old buddies in between. Before I left for my  second  tour I met a girl, Margaery.  She  was a florist friend of a friend's girlfriend. We started dating and i t felt like I was finally doing something good with my life, I was rising through ranks and for once I had someone to look forward to coming home for.  Between my second and third tours I stayed with her and it just seemed like my life was finally right. During my third tour we were  doing a detail mission  when  our convoy got caught in enemy fire. One of my men was shot and fell behind so I went back for him. He died in my arms, and when I tried to drag him out of the line I was hit.”

“Is that what the scars on your chest and stomach were from? Bullet wounds?” Arya’s eyes are wide as she takes in every word.

Gendry’s grimace turned up at the corners into a smirk when he realized she had been staring at him when he first came to her apartment to use the shower, “So you  were  staring at me? It’s alright Arya, I know I’m sexy.” He lifts his arms and flexes them to reiterate his point. 

Her face flushes and he laughs at her embarrassment which only causes the blush to deepen, she responds by throwing a  piece of  carrot at him before turning her back and tossing the salad on the other countertop.  His laugh is deep and boisterous as it fills the small space of the kitchen, Arya bites her lip and smiles as she thinks about how pleased his face seemed when she inadvertently admitted to eyeing him when he was practically naked.

Finishing the salad and dividing it into two bowels she sets them on the counter before  she begins scooping the vegetables onto the plates she had set near the oven.

“Anyway yes, they are from bullets. The one came really close to my heart and nicked a few important arteries so it was touch and go for a while. The one in my hip fractured the bone and I had to go through PT for a few months, they gave me honorable discharge and sent me back to Boston to finish my therapy.”

“Here, um sorry if you don’t like it; I don’t eat meat so, yeah.” 

“It smells great!” He looks down and sees the colorful vegetables covering some brown rice with the salad next to it, “What exactly is it?”

She laughs, the expression on his face was so innocent and adorable that she couldn’t help it; and after he teased her a good laugh at his expense was warranted, in her opinion. 

“Its ratatouille, my mom was French and taught me the recipe  one day when I had to stay home from school because of the flu. It was always my favorite .”

They sit in silence for a few minutes enjoying the meal, he hums his appreciation and it doesn’t take him long to finish his plate. When offered seconds he doesn’t hesitate, as she grabs his plate and begins spooning more rice she asks, “So is that it?”

“Is what it?”

“Is that the end of your story?”

“No quite, but I don’t want to bore you.”

“You’re not boring Gendry. I don’t mind listening. Please?” She sets the now heaping plate down in front of him.

“Alright, since you asked nicely…when I came home I moved in with Margaery and thought that everything was going great, I even thought about proposing to her once I got back on my feet.”

“What happened?”

Arya can tell that he isn’t telling her everything, but she doesn’t fault him for it; she usually doesn’t let people get close either and there isn’t anything against them she just isn’t comfortable letting people see her exposed. Gendry is probably feeling the same way. 

Taking a few bites he continues, “One day I went to Margaery’s after spending a few nights in a hotel and found her in bed with some guy. She claimed it was the first time and tried to apologize but I didn’t believe her, she just had this look in her eyes as she said it. So I went back to the hotel and started looking for apartments and just stayed there until I was able to find this place. I just… wanted a real fresh start but I still couldn’t completely let go of the city. Pretty pathetic, huh?”

As he takes another bite he looks down at his plate, Arya can feel the pain radiating off of him and before she thinks it through she stands and walks around the island. When he notices her coming close to him he turns toward her just in time to feel her thin arms wrap around his neck. Closing her eyes she buries her face in his neck and squeezes herself tightly against him. When his arms slowly wrap around her Arya flinches but doesn’t pull away.

“I don’t think that’s pathetic Gendry.”

When she returns to her seat she plays with her food for a few moments before standing and putting her plate in the sink. She asks if he wants more and he politely refuses. The silence between them is palpable as she turns and starts putting away the leftovers, only the soft music from her computer keeping the silence from becoming deafening. 

Standing Gendry grabs his empty plate and puts it in the sink with hers; she’s opening the bottle of wine he brought and pouring it into two glasses. Gesturing she leads him to the couch and they sit at opposite ends facing each other.

“What about you?”

“What about me?”

“You made a deal, my story for yours.”

She shrugs her shoulders and Gendry laughs as she takes a sip of the wine, “Come on, I practically cried in your kitchen Arya, I think you owe me.”

“Fine.”

She turns and presses her back in the couch, leaning her head back against the overstuffed gray cushions, “I was born in  the Northwest Territories in Canada- ”

“You’re Canadian?” Surprise tinges his voice with disbelief.

“Yeah, I was born in  the territories but my father got a huge career opportunity so we moved to Ontario when I was around 7 but we  spent a lot of time in my family’s cabin in Nunavut which is Northern Canada  so we were pretty much always in the wilderness . When I was 16 I got a full academic scholarship to a prep school in Boston. So I spent summers in Canada with my family and then came here during the school year. I got into Boston University on another scholarship and started when I was 18; during my  junior  year, just before I turned 2 1  I…I found out I was pregnant. My family was really disappointed in me, and my parents were pretty much devastated. They told me that I was throwing my life away, we got into a huge argument and now we don’t really talk much, the shitty thing is that I don’t really get to talk to my siblings because of it, they don’t want to create more conflict with my parents. So  Lyanna  is 6 months old and still hasn’t met them, I send pictures every few months.”

Taking a deep sip of wine Arya continues with a sigh, “I was always really close with my sister Sansa, she’s 24, she started writing to me after the blowout with our parents and now we correspond through letters. She got married last summer but I couldn’t go with the pregnancy, so she sent me a few pictures ...  here.” 

Reaching to the end table next to her she picks up a wooden teal frame and hands it to him. Setting his wine down on the white coffee table he holds the frame and examines the image inside it, “Our parents were upset because she married a New Yorker but he’s a pretty decent guy. He’s a cop there and she works for a publishing company.”

The first thing he notices is the size difference, the man seems to hulk over the petite redhead in the picture. She’s in a strapless gown that hugs tightly to reveal ample curves and her flaming hair is pinned in heavy curls behind her head, the woman is leaning over laughing with her hands around the man’s torso. He has his eyes closed and a small smirk on his as his arms hold her up. The scars on his face mar what could be a handsome visage.

“Sansa said that he was burned in a house fire when he was a kid.”

“Is everyone in your family as small as you?” She can tell that he’s trying to lighten the mood and she playfully swats him with the pillow previously abandoned between them.

“Sandor’s almost 7 feet tall; Sansa is 5’11” I’ll have you know… and  I’m not that short you jerk.”

He starts to convulse with laughter, “Have you ever met anyone shorter than you…” 

Arya squares off toward him and he can see the indignation rising as she opens her mouth to respond, “Children don’t count Arya.”

“Oh shut up!” The pillow lashes out once again,

“What kind of lady hits a man with a pillow?!” Another swat.

“I’m not a lady! And you deserve it, making fun of me for being short. I’m not that short , you’re just abnormally large.”

She smiles, Gendry was the first person she’d ever shared some of her story with who hadn’t been with her throughout it . It felt good to have someone share with her and allow her to do the same.  When his life fades he just pins her with those clear blue eyes, Arya watches him take her in and she can feel heat rising in her core as his strong jaw twitches.

“Are you ever going to tell me the whole story behind you Arya?” He isn’t angry with her, just takes a sip of his wine and looks at her with a small smile playing at his lips.

“Maybe, if I do will you tell me yours?”

The smile widens and that’s when Arya knows that she and Gendry have more in common than they thought. Both of them were trying to get away from demons of the past and it was a relief to finally have someone struggling with her. With him there wasn’t judgment, there were no criticisms for her mistakes, he understood; he said so himself, and for once Arya felt comfortable around him.

With that the mood lifts and while they don’t forget about the struggles that either of them has faced, for now they push it aside. The rest of the evening passes with conversations about Arya’s classes and her desire to be a physical therapist while Gendry talks about work and some of the antics he’s witnessed in the shop.


	5. Chapter 5, Gendry

After leaving Arya’s apartment that night Gendry and her fell into a rhythm. Every Sunday she would cook dinner and he would come over and they would talk. Sometimes about work, or school, sometimes they would share stories about her childhood and he would talk about things that happened while he was in the marines. There was a seriousness about Arya that Gendry admired, she was strong willed and very independent and while at first he pitied her for being a young single mother he has come to realize how hard she works to take care of  Lyanna  and herself. 

It’s Thursday and nearing 8 by the time Gendry starts climbing the stairs toward his apartment. Today Hot Pie and him took apart an engine and ran into a few larger problems than they were expecting, and the job needed to be done before the shop opened on Friday so they had to put in overtime. Exhausted and covered in grease he practically salivates at the thought of a hot shower.

“….fuck about that! You were supposed to be here over an hour ago!”

Gendry hears Arya yelling and frowns as he climbs the stairs faster. When he gets to the top of the flight he can see her. She’s wearing a dark gray tee with a mockingbird on the back and black athletic shorts. Her feet are bare as she paces up and down the hall her cell pressed against her ear while her other hand tugs in frustration at her loose hair.

“What am I supposed to do now? I have to be at work by 9 and don’t have time to find a sitter…”

When she sees him standing staring at her she gives him a tense smile and pulls her hand out of her hair, “She’s your daughter Ramsay, you can’t just push her aside when….fine…no, I said fine!....oh FUCK YOU!” 

The phone drops and she screams the last part at what he can only assume was the other person hanging up on her; when she looks up she draws the bottom corner of her lip to worry with her teeth as Gendry approaches. 

“Everything alright?”

She bites her lip and shakes her head, “ Lyanna  was supposed to go with her father tonight for the weekend but something came up, and now he can’t pick her up until tomorrow morning but I have to do inventory tonight.”

“Oh, well…I can watch her for you.”

Her eyes go wide at his suggestion, “What?”

“Yeah, it’s already late she’ll probably be asleep soon anyway.”

“Are—are you sure?”

He can see the hesitation in her face, but also the desperation. While he had never really been around children, other than when he was one in foster care, Gendry was used to  Lyanna  by now and the little girl didn’t seem to mind him either.

“Yeah, I just need to shower off quick. Just bring her over when you’re ready to leave.”

“Umm, yeah—ok.”

When she scurries into her own apartment Gendry unlocks his door and quickly discards his soiled clothes in the laundry bin before climbing into the stream of the shower. As he soaps up his arms and the tanned flesh of his arms starts to become visible once more through the black grease Gendry lets his mind wander back to his days in foster care.

He had always been big and in his anger at the loss of his mother and being thrown in foster care he often used his size to bully the other kids. When he wanted something he would take it, if they threw harsh words at him he threw punches and attitude. Growing up in the system had taught him how to fend and do for himself at a young age, and Gendry came to resent his mother for leaving him in that place. He started to hate her for dying, blaming her for everything wrong in his life. Not many people wanted an older child, especially one as large as him, he felt like a freak. Watching his life pass him by Gendry came to live on the thrill that trouble brought him, the tremors of satisfaction that would rush through him when he got in a fight and the adrenaline that coursed through his veins became like a drug, and he was addicted.

Turning off the shower and toweling himself the thoughts continue. At 16 he ran away from the foster home he’d been staying in, no one really cared to look for him though. He stayed on the streets and stole what he needed; he fought off anyone who tried to intimidate him, anyone who questioned him. But then he got caught one too many times and some judge forced him back into the system and ordered probation with the threat of prison time if he were arrested again and Mott was assigned to watch over him. And what he told Arya was true, he showed Gendry how to work on cars to keep him off the streets; but Mott was so much more than Gendry allowed himself to admit. 

Mott took Gendry under his wing, mentored him. Showed him how to box and took him to the gym, he forced Gendry to learn to funnel his anger and how to control it. Then he started working on the source of the hate and the anger, Mott got him to talk about things that he never spoke of with anyone. Gendry realized that he was blaming everything on his mother and her death because he never allowed himself to grieve for her. He was thrust into the system immediately after her funeral and was forced to adapt in a world that was new to him. Sometimes he would cry for the years of anger that he directed at her, and Gendry resented himself. Mott taught him how to deal with that as well. His mother had loved him so much and when she died he forgot that, too wrapped up in his anger to let himself remember.

Now he sees Arya struggling everyday to take care of  Lyanna , he watches how tired her eyes are and how abused she’s been by the scorn of those around her and he wonders if that was how his mother felt when his father left? What he can remember of his mom she was always smiling and laughing, always playing with him and singing songs to cheer him when he was down, was she silently suffering the way Arya seem s  to be; choking it down and fighting against the rest of the world?

After pulling on some clean briefs and shorts he decides it would be best to pull a tee on before heading into the kitchen and grabbing some leftover pizza out of the fridge. As he takes a bite he hears Arya’s door closing so he saves her the time and opens his own to find her standing with  Lyanna  in her carrier hanging off one arm diaper bag across her shoulder, a plastic bag around her other wrist, and a large pale yellow cushion under her arm.

“She should be out pretty soon, I just fed her. Umm…” He takes the carrier from her and looks down to smile as  Lyanna  giggles at him.

“This is her sleeper cushion, if you just put it on the couch or even the floor she’ll pass out. She doesn’t normally wake up, but if she does there are two thermos’ of milk that should still be warm just pour some into one of the bottles and feed her a little bit and she’ll usually go right back to sleep. Don’t shake the milk, just swirl it around gently for a minute. Shaking it put air bubbles in the milk and she gets sick. Just check because she doesn’t like to be wet so it may just be a dirty diaper….have you ever changed a diaper?”

Gendry shakes his head, when would he have had the chance to try changing a dirty diaper?

“Ok well it’s not that hard, you kind of just do what you would do to yourself lift her legs and wipe away the mess. The diapers are marked which part is the front and which is the back; there are plenty of wipes in the bag….are you sure you’re ok with this?” She’s speaking quickly and he can see the tension in her shoulders, she’s holding her muscles tightly as if waiting for him to change his mind.

“Yeah it’s fine!”

“Alright well I owe you big time!”

“Consider it a thank you for all the free meals. It’s fine, really.” He smiles reassuringly.

“Ok, well you can just keep her in the carrier if you want. Thank you so much Gendry you have no idea how much this means to me!’ She rushes forward and pulls his head down, when he feels the smoothness of her lips on his cheek Gendry turns to look at her before she can pull away.

Their breaths mingle together and it would just be a slight lean from him to attach his lips to hers, looking down into her eyes he sees the darkness in them and just before he can lean in further she pulls away. Practically running out of the apartment, she turns and shouts over her shoulder, “I should be back around 3 but I won’t wake you, just bring her over when you get up!”

“Alright, have fun at work.”

She turns and gives him a goofy smile, he knows how much she hates her job; and with a quick eye roll she’s rushing down the hall.

Turning from the doorway to look into the apartment at the little girl kicking her arms and legs out from her carrier, “Looks like it’s you and me for the night  Lya ”, closing the door he sits on the floor next to her.

When a chubby little hand reaches out for him Gendry puts his finger out for her, the grip isn’t strong but the little girl’s acceptance of him makes him smile.

When he was 8 he was put in another home, the 5 th  that he’d been in since he was put in the system. Usually they were houses with too many children and too little care as to whether or not they were given the attention they needed, or that they deserved. But his case agent promised him that this house was going to be different. This time there weren’t going to be other orphans, other throw- aways , this house was a proper family; with a mother and father, a boy a year older than him and a new baby. They were offering to bring him into their home; everyone promised him that it was going to be the last time he was moved, they promised.

Gendry was finally excited about the prospect of settling in somewhere, the case agent told him that if they adopted him he would have two new brothers; one older and one younger. He would be able to play with his new older brother and teach his younger when he was old enough to learn. They told him that he was finally going to fit in somewhere.

It wasn’t even a full week in his new home when Gendry realized how wrong they were. His foster mother doting on the baby, cooing and pulling him to her breast as if he were a sacred treasure that could never part with, bruises would cover the older boy, Max, and he never wanted to play with Gendry.  The father would come home late every night, reeking of booze and flushed with frustration. Max would scowl at him and push him, tell him that he was a bastard and the only reason he was living with them was so his parents could get the foster money. Gendry didn’t understand what he meant; only felt that he was being used. The anger and violence that he fought so hard to restrain, that he tried to keep them from seeing ‘if they see it they’ll send me back, no one wants a bad little boy’. The people at the orphanage had warned him, he kept getting sent back because he was too angry, and no one wanted a broken child. 

Every day Gendry was left by himself in the attic. They only had 2 bedrooms in the house so he was given a mattress to situate amongst cardboard boxes under the drafty roof. One weekend morning when sitting in the kitchen with a bowl of cereal, staring into the living room with the baby in its crib Gendry heard the child begin to cry, when he looked up he saw Max standing over the little boy, his fingers pinching the child. To this day Gendry can’t recall what the baby’s name had been.

“Hey! Leave him alone Max!” Getting up from his place in the kitchen Gendry ran in to push Max on the floor.

The older boy screamed at him, telling him that it was his brother and he could do what he wanted. He pushed Gendry under him and hit him again and again. Finally the anger and hatred came up and Gendry went blind with rage, his fists lashed out and struck until the foster father threw him across the room. Max weaved a tale to his parents, telling them that he was in the kitchen eating breakfast when he saw Gendry pinching his brother. He tried to fight Gendry away but the younger boy went crazy and because he was so much bigger he won. Nobody even asked him for his side of the story, no one really cared.

They sent him back the next day and Gendry was kept from the younger kids after that. Everyone was afraid of what he would do, rumors spread and soon the other kids were too afraid to try and confront him; and with the incident now on his record that was the last home Gendry got invited in to. They all thought he was a monster.

“But you’re not scared of me, are you?” Gendry whispers as  Lya  tries to pull his finger to her toothless mouth.

“You know, you look exactly like you r  mom….cute little thing. Though, between you and me, I think you’re a bit cuter.” Tentatively he unclips the girl and lifts her out of the carrier.

Carefully standing Gendry sits Indian-style on his couch and settles  Lyanna’s  legs between his own while holding her up to bounce in front of him, “I don’t remember much about my mother, but I know she loved me very much and she tried her best to give me the best. Just like your mommy does for you…here, let’s see what’s on the TV.”

 The station was a sports channel and they were recalling highlights from the day’s baseball games, “Do you like baseball? Maybe you’ll grow up to be a softball player, though…let’s hope you didn’t inherit Arya’s height.”

While the stats were playing through Gendry was arguing with the commentators about a positive comment thrown toward the Yankees when he began to smell something, at first he thought that maybe he had left something out in the kitchen but then realization dawned. Looking down at the now docile  Lyanna  he lifts her from where she’d been lying in his lap, He holds her in both hands away from him “I don’t like them either but there’s no need to get nasty.”

After warring with the infant to try and change her diaper, and almost vomiting a few times, Gendry finally had her changed, “We’re going to have a serious talk with your mother about what she’s been feeding you.”

Before long he was passed out on the floor with a pillow from the couch while  Lyanna  was contented on her cushion which he surrounded by pillows just in case she managed to roll out of the already concaved support. 

Heart thumping in his chest, the pounding so loud he could practically dance along with the beat. The adrenaline is coursing through his veins as the bullets hit the ground around him, Gendry can't even feel his legs as he presses forward running faster and faster trying to escape the ambush. It was supposed to be an extraction mission just like any other, easy in and quickly out; but this time it was different. Men with automatics were waiting on the rooftops for them to walk out into the open streets. The snipers that were supposed to be covering them had already been taken out and as soon as the soldiers came out it was like fish in a barrel. He was shouting  commands, trying to direct as many of his men to safety as he could. The civilians in the streets scramble between them, women screaming and children crying out as the fire rains down. 

A man runs out of one of the  huts pointing his rifle directly at Gendry and without hesitating he lifts his own firearm and pulls the trigger, as the man falls two more run out to take his place firing as they move. A sharp burning rips through his left side, but the pain is  momentary as the energy brought on by the assault keeps his brain from fully receiving just how deep the bullet actually bit into his flesh. He can hear the thuds of bullets connecting with the ground and huts around him, turning Gendry uses his peri phery to take account of his men's positions he can see everyone except for Vasquez. His second in command wasn't in his sights, taking cover behind one of the trucks they rode in on Gendry checks the open space between the buildings. 

Men and women who had nothing to do with the war, simply trying to protect their families lay dead in the streets. Their cold dead eyes staring out at him, blaming him. Gendry cries out for Vasquez. They needed to leave, they got what they came for but they needed to leave before they lost more than just the mission.

"Waters, we have need to get out of here!" Someone shouts at him over the chaos going on around them. 

"Where's Vasquez?" 

"He fell...when it started. I saw him fall...Gendry we have to get out of here now!"

"I'm not just going to leave him here!"

Before they can answer him Gendry doubles back and runs to the building they left just minutes ago \--BANG! BANG!

The first thing he registers is the sound of crying the next is a heavy thud and screaming, as his blurry eyes open Gendry wonders for a second why he’s laying on the floor; but as the crying becomes clearer so does his head. Sitting up quickly Gendry looks over to see  Lyanna  red faced and eyes wide, her hands reach up and her legs kicking. 

“Hey…hey…” gently he presses his hands underneath her and lifts, instantly pulling the distraught child to his chest.

Shouts echoing in from the hallway draw his attention and  Lyanna  cries into the cotton of his shirt, putting a comforting and supportive hand across her back he bounces her lightly with the one under her while he walks to the door and leans down to look through the peephole. Running back to the couch he lays  Lyanna  down as carefully as he is able to before running out of the door.

“Arya!”


	6. Chapter 6, Arya

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So this chapter is where more of the darkness of this story presents itself, please be advised and take the tags for this story into consideration. Trigger warning for past dubious/non-consensual sexual conduct.

 

“I already checked that case  Jeyne , come on…I want to go home!”

It was already after 3 and Arya was getting angrier by the hour. They were scheduled once a month to do inventory and the employees would draw from a hat which two of them would go through the crates and cases, this month Arya was pulled along with  Jeyne  Poole. The other girl was a senior at the college and had been with the Mocking Bird for 2 years, typically she worked only a few shifts during the week and never on weekends. She was nice enough, but she was an idiot who didn’t work more because she couldn’t handle the weekend flows. 

“I’m sorry, I just…I didn’t…” the girl really was trying and Arya instantly felt bad for the harsh tone she took with her.

“It’s alright, I’m just really tired. I’m sorry; I didn’t mean to snap at you.” She tried to give her a small reassuring smile.

By the time they were finished it was almost 4, the bar had closed 2 hours prior and the other girls had gone home. She waved as  Jeyne  pulled out of the parking lot, reassuring the young woman that she didn’t need a ride home. She needed the fresh air to clear out the musty air she’d breathed in from the bar’s back room. Arya was tired and her back and arm muscles ached from lifting the heavy crates on and off of the shelves, thankfully Baelish gave her the weekend off. She had gotten overtime for the week doing inventory and she was starting to fall behind in her class work so she was going to use the break. She wished that she had  Lyanna  this weekend, she felt as if she was so busy between work and classes that she wasn’t getting the time with the little girl that she desperately wanted.

Over the past few months her baby had been growing so much and she felt like she was watching as a spectator. The little girl was starting to babble more, she was starting to digest more solid foods and formula, and she was beginning to scoot across the floor on her belly soon she would be crawling and then before she knew it  Lya  was going to be walking. 

As she rounds the corner to her apartment Arya’s smile falters when she recognizes a sleek black Mercedes SUV parked in front of her building. Walking up to car she peers into the window, trying to see if there is anyone inside. Quickly she runs to the back of the building, praying that it’s just a coincidence. But as soon as she breaks around the side of the building she sees him. He’s sitting on the entry steps with a lit cigarette between his fingers.

Her heart begins to pound in her chest. 

“Ramsay, what are you doing here?”

His pale blue eyes burn into her as his head snaps toward the sound of her voice, his square jaw that she once thought gave him a rugged handsomeness clenches tightly and Arya shudders. Standing at full height she only comes to his chest but she stands tall and squares her shoulders to him anyway as she approaches, squeezing the bag against her side subconsciously she walks toward him. He stands and glares down at her, the tight gray v neck tee he has on showing his solid arms and just a hint of the strong chest underneath. 

“I told you I’d be over to get her; I’ve been here for almost an hour Arya. You said you got off at 3. What, too busy fucking  Baelish?”

“I told you I thought I would be off at 3, we fell behind and had to stay until it was finished…Ramsay why are you here?”

“My parents are hosting a promotional luncheon for my father’s campaign; I told you this over the phone, I need to have  Lyanna  with me.”

Arya stands in front of him and looks up into his face, at first she reaches for her keys but doesn’t want to risk letting him into her  apartment  so she drops her hand. 

“She’s your daughter Ramsa y,  not a pawn to be used whenever you see fit.”

Instantly she wishes she could catch the words and swallow them before they reached his ears; the darkness that takes over his eyes is a threat that she is intimately familiar with. Before she can react or stutter an apology his hand darts out and grasps her upper arm, his fingers digging painfully into her already sore muscles.

“What did you say you little slut?”

“She—she’s your daughter Ramsay…”

“That’s right Arya,  Lyanna  is MY daughter. And I’m taking her with me, where the fuck is she?”

“Ramsay…it’s late…”

“I’m going to count to 3, Arya. Do I need to remind you what happens when I reach 3?”

Shuddering she shakes her head,  h e throws her arm out of his grasp as if it disgusted him to touch her, if only, she thinks to herself. Her fingers tremble as she struggles to  grip the knob in her stiff and overworked fingers  but after a few moments the door swings open and she reluctantly leads him up the stairs.

“Here…” She hands him the keys, her eyes cast down as the cool skin of his fingers graze against her own, “Her weekend bag is in her room by the door, I’ll go get her from Gendry’s…”

“Who is ‘Gendry’?”

“He lives across the hall from us.”

At first his eyes just study her face, but quickly narrow as he takes in what she has just said, “Why does he have  Lyanna ?” 

“It’s just Gendry, he’s a friend!” 

“A friend?” A manic laugh escapes Ramsay’s lips as he pulls Arya closer to  him, his hand  feels  like a vice around her wrist as it's pinned between their chests. 

“ You said you couldn’t come get her and I had no one else to watch  Lyanna , Ramsay. I had to go to work!”

“So you asked your fuck buddy!? I always knew you were a little whore, but I didn’t think you were stupid enough to leave our daughter with one of your conquests.”

Before Ramsay she would have never let anyone talk to her this way, she would have balled her fists and talked back; she would have fought. Now she trembles like a trapped mouse being leered at by the big bad cat, she used to be strong. She used to try harder, but now she’s too used to this and she’s already worn from work; even if she did try to fight she stood no chance. 

“Gendry isn’t—“Before she can finish Arya 's world becomes a blur before  feels the hardness of the door behind her, the impact of it throws her head against the wood and in the instant haze she feels Ramsay’s body pressing into hers; one of his hand s  wraps around her throat while the other pins her hip, anchoring her to the door.

“Let go of me Ramsay.” She’s been here before, and knows that it isn’t leading anywhere good. Her hands lift to  the one lightly wrapped around her neck  and she digs her short nails into the  cold skin.

“Why? Why do you keep making it easy? You know I like it when you fight back …” he rubs his nose along her exposed  part of her  neck  not covered by his hand ; he bites her neck lightly, like a lover “you know you belong to me Arya.”

“Fuck you Ramsay! You called at the last minute and told me you weren’t coming, what was I supposed to do?! He was there and he offered to take care of her. That doesn’t automatically mean I’m screwing him you asshole!” She grits out through clenched teeth, he plays her like an expert. She knows that this is what he wants and she silently screams at herself for losing her cool and giving it to him. Ramsay gets off on the struggle and the fight, he enjoys the pain.

The smirk on his face when he pulls away from her neck is terrifyingly calm, as if all of this was a joke, “There’s the spirit…” 

His lips press tightly to hers, Arya presses against his chest but she knows with her slight frame and compromised position that it isn’t going to do any good. He’s shoving his tongue into her mouth; she bites down as a last resort, the coppery taste of blood entering her senses as he pulls away. 

 Like lightning his hand crashes against her cheek, the resonating sound of his palm against her flesh roaring like thunder through the empty hallway.  When she stares defiantly up at him, her jaw clenched tightly together as she glares. This time his hand hits the front of her face, directly across her nose and instantly t ears well into her eyes at the sting, but she clenches them tightly to keep from falling; that’s what he wants.

“No, no, no…let it out; you know I love it when you cry.” And with that another blow to her fac e, this time she feel her lip break when it clashes against her teeth; the copper tang of blood fills her mouth.

“Ramsay, stop.” Her voice is quiet; she just wants this to be over, she wants to crawl into bed and wrap herself in the blankets and forget.

“Arya!”

That voice, it sounds as if it’s coming from a dream; maybe it was the blow to her head when he first smashed her against the door? He shouldn’t be here she thinks, ‘I don’t want him to see’. Ever since her sordid relationship with Ramsay began Arya has done whatever she had to in order to keep people from seeing it, she was embarrassed and defeated, she felt angry at herself for allowing it to happen; and she felt weak and useless for not being able to do anything about it. She severed ties, cut off friendships in order to keep it hidden. It wasn’t really that big of a deal, she was used to being on her own, but then she met  _ him _  and she didn’t want to be alone anymore. Now he would never want her, he could see how weak she truly was even though she tried to hide it; he’s going to see how broken she is.

“ Ahh , you must be this Gendry I’ve been hearing about.” Ramsay moves away from her as if they were old friends sharing an embrace, his hand coming up to wipe the blood from his mouth before extending it to Gendry  as he takes a few long strides , stopping just in front of his as Ramsay waits for him to accept the gesture .

“Yeah, I’m Gendry. And who the hell are you?”  Keeping his hands clenched at his sides Gendry stares between the man in front of him and at Arya, who is staring at him in disbelief.

“I’m Ramsay, Ramsay Bolton, as in  Lyanna  Bolton.”

When the comprehension dawns on his face Arya thinks that for the briefest second Gendry looks, almost sad about the revelation. It looked as if he were disappointed in the news of it. 

His hands are clenched into fists at his sides, Arya can see a scowl on his face as he ignores the extended hand; when his eyes rake over her face they narrow at her, “Arya, are you alright?”

Ramsay’s face is pulled into a grin, as if it were the most amusing thing he’d ever been delighted to witness. He looks back  toward Arya , raising his eyebrows to her as if waiting for her to answer Gendry. Small chuckles begin to bubble out of his throat, “Well Arya? The man asked you a question…”

Gendry steps  across the hall  until he’s bending to look into Arya’s eyes, hesitating she can feel hi m  lift  his hand toward her but when she flinches and closes her eyes it stops. Slowly he lowers his hand but still remains close to her, turning his body so that his chest is facing her and his back angling toward Ramsay; as if he’s trying to shield her from him.

When her eyes open again they take in Gendry. Unlike the first time she ran into him Gendry has his hair cropped, not quite in a militaristic cut but more kept then it was though now it’s ruffled and standing in various places. His eyes are wild with adrenaline but the sleep is still tainting them, his  dilated  pupils showing even more of the brilliant blue of his eyes. His mouth is slightly open and he’s breathing deeply, if this were a dream she could pretend that they were together. That it was  her hands running through his hair that messed it, their lips connecting and the heat of the moment between them causing his breath to quicken, the gaze in his eyes would be lust instead of uncertainty.

“I’m fine.”

“There, she’s fine. Now, if you don’t mind Arya this is going to be a busy day and I’d like to get  Lyanna  home and in a proper bed.”

Pushing past Gendry she doesn’t spare a glance toward him, she doesn’t want to see him; she doesn’t want him to see her like this, with him. Silently she walks into his apartment and in the dim light from the hallway picks up her daughter; she wraps her arms around the little girls and holds her tightly against her chest nuzzling her nose into the thin wisps of chestnut hair. Tears once more prickle into her eyes and this time leak out of the outer corners, she sniffles as she cradles her baby. Her hand comes up to rub softly at the back of  Lyanna’s  head and neck.

“I love you  Lya .” 

With effort and a heavy heart she puts  Lyanna  in the carrier and snaps her in, the fluorescents in the hallway are nearly blinding. Gendry is facing Ramsay, her ex smiling at the older man as if they’d been old friends. Ramsay reaches out and takes the handle out of her hands, practically ripping her child from her arms. 

“We’ll be off them, see you later mommy.” The condescending tone in his voice is biting and Arya just shakes her head in anger at his retreating form, noticing the overnight bag  from  Lyanna’s  room slung over his shoulder. 

Looking up she see’s that her door is cracked open, the keys still dangling in the lock. Gendry stands between her and it, and suddenly the silence becomes deafening. 

“I’m sorry that we woke you, I misunderstood when he said he would be coming to get her.” Averting her eyes from him she tries to maneuver around his bulky frame but a heavy hand wrapping  gently  around her  forearm  stops her. 

“Arya, what the hell was all that?”

“It was nothing, we just…please, Gendry it’s late and I’m tired.”

“I’m tired too Arya. Or in case you’ve forgotten I was just woken up by you screaming and some guy pinning you to your door before hitting you.”

This makes her blood run cold, and Arya feels the sickening clench of her stomach. Turning on him she can feel the heat wash through her face as she stares up into his, “I’m sorry. I didn’t plan on waking you, but like I said I misunderstood.”

“Fuck Arya, I’m not mad at you! I don’t care that you woke me up if it means it stopped him from doing more to you!” He waits for her to respond, her eyes move over his face and he can see that she’s searching for the right words to say, the right excuse to give . As he sighs out Gendry moves the hand that isn't holding her up to cup her jaw; tilting her head he looks at the blooming bruise on her cheek before his thumb carefully swipes over her split lip causing her to flinch in pain  “ Sorry... Has this happened before Arya?”

“It’s not that easy Gendry.” Her voice is soft, and childlike. 

“What’s not easy? Has this happened before, him hitting you? It’s a yes or no question Arya.”

Swallowing the bile that rises in her throat Arya clenches her jaw and stares at him for a moment, the expression he’s displaying is disgusted and angry, “You don’t know  anything …” She tries to wrench her arm away from him, but he only tightens his grip. She tries not to cry out at the pressure, but she does, biting her lip to contain a whimper from following it. He lets go of her instantly, as if she’s burned him. She knows he doesn’t mean to hurt her, he just wants answers, an explanation; but she doesn’t know what to say to him.

“Fuck Arya, I’m sorry!...but I know I heard you screaming, that I saw him kiss you, that I heard him hit you  more than once  Arya….Jesus, how could you let him take  Lyanna  after that?”

“Don’t Gendry…” Pressing her eyes tightly she tries to ignore the almost painful break in his eyes, “Don’t you dare question me! You don’t know me Gendry, you don’t know anything about me, or Ramsay or what goes on between us! You see us fighting and assume that he’s going to hurt  Lyanna  but he wouldn’t, he would  never  hurt her!” 

“Arya—“

“No! You don’t get to judge me Gendry. You don’t get to be like everyone else.” And this time he doesn’t stop her when she tries to leave.

As soon as the door to her apartment is closed behind her Arya presses against it and slides down the wood, not caring at the protest her back muscles shoot through her. Cradling her head in shaking hands she lets the dam break and tears stream instantly down her face. No one was supposed to ever see what happened between her and Ramsay; no one ever seemed to concern themselves with it before, rather turning a blind eye as if nothing was wrong. His family knew what he was, but with strong political influences and endless monetary means they allowed him to continue as long as it didn’t draw attention to the family. They cared more about preserving their name and image that they didn’t care what he did as long as it was discreet; and when he lost control and took it too far, they reached into their resources and covered his messes. But the look in Gendry’s face was so caring and so concerned that she wished he had just stayed behind his door, it was easier to take the pain and swallow it like a bitter pill when she thought that no one cared. 

Dragging herself up from the floor Arya stumbles to the bedroom, mindlessly she kicks off her shoes as she steps toward the bed. Tears blur her vision but as she falls onto the welcoming softness of her mattress, the comforting feel of the bedspread under her as it soaks the sadness from her face. The pain constricts her heart and the overwhelming exhaustion begins to set in. She tries to fight it, tries to keep the sleep at bay but soon her breathing levels and darkness overtakes her.

_ Her fists ball into the silk sheets tightly as she closes her eyes and bites into her own arm, the pain she’s inflicting on herself a distraction to avoid feeling him inside of her. The cords wrapped around her wrist s  are too tight and bruising, the bones scraping together and screaming in protest against the brutality. Softness rubs against her naked chest, his rapid thrusting driving her against it with each hard slam of his hips, the smooth coolness of the expensive material should feel amazing and wonderful, instead it rubs like steel-wool against her tender skin.  _

_ _

_ When she came to his apartment it was out of anger. Confrontation was the reason she brought herself here, she planned to demand answers for what he did to her; in its place she slapped him, tried to punch him, kick out, but nothing seemed to faze him. She screamed at him for what he’s done to her, all the while he laughs and mocks her. After only a few minutes he knocks her to the floor, their mouths meet heatedly and at first Arya forgets her anger toward him; maybe she had formed the wrong conclusion, she had been blackout drunk after all. He settles between her thighs and starts to rut against her. His hands rip at her clothes pulling and tearing as she fought, tangling in the cotton of her tee. As the material gets to her neck he tightens it, pulling firmly until she can’t breathe against the restraint and that’s when the illusion breaks. She remembers why she came, and demands to be released. His wild blue eyes burning into hers as he leans to look into her face, the smile on his lips is devious and perverse. That’s when she knows she wasn’t crazy, she had been right the first time. _

_ _

_ In her momentary lapse he flips her onto her  stomach  and unhooks the bra, reaching under her to let his hands grope freely at her breasts pushing the cups of the bra up over the slight swell of her, his fingers pinching roughly at her nipples. Swinging her arms behind her she tries to punch into his sides or his back, wherever she can manage to land a blow, but her attempts are feeble and ineffective. Trying to yell at him has done nothing but earn her head being pulled back by a hand twisting painfully in her hair and crushing her face into the floor. _

_ _

_ One arm wraps around her stomach and across her chest before she’s lifted off of the floor, pressed firmly to his chest. Walking her toward the bedroom Arya tries to struggle out of his hold, his only response is to flatten the palm of his free hand on her bare stomach letting his heat leech into her core, it slides down and with a little flick moves into the waist of her yoga pants. Her underwear is pushed aside and soon his fingers toy with her. Hot breath whispers in her ear telling her how good she’s being, how well she’s fighting. _

_ _

_ Throwing her face into the mattress he quickly climbs on top of her using their considerable size difference to his advantage, his knee presses between her shoulder blades as his hands bind her to the corners of his headboard. The bastard was used to this, his arsenal unabashedly prepared; and Arya begins to cry, thinking about how used to this he probably was.    _

_ _

_ He lets her legs free, though there are similar thick silk cords wrapped around the corners of the baseboard. Sprawled and stretched across the big bed Ramsay laughs as he pulls her bottoms off in one swift pull, his fingernails scraping at her legs, “Normally I would tie your legs too, but you’re so fucking short the ties aren’t long enough to reach you.” _

_ _

_ “How fortunate for me…” Sarcasm drips as she tries to turn her head to glare at him. _

_ _

_ Moving so the nightstand topped with a number of devious mechanisms including handcuffs and a whip, a few metal clips that look like binder clips, and packets of lube, Arya closes her eyes and holds her breath in fear for what he was reaching for. Tell tale signs of cloth rustling and the bed dipping alerts Arya to Ramsay stripping himself. The cold press of his flesh against her heated skin making her shudder, fingers starts to rub at her sex; they’re slick and even colder than his body. When he’s happy with the spread of lubricant his hand strokes his member a few times and without anymore preamble he spreads her legs roughly. _

_ _

“NO!” Flying into a sitting position Arya backs away until her body connects with hard wood. 

Looking around as she fights to regain control of her breathing, the familiar room around her eases her tension as she processes the nightmare and re-assimilates into reality; usually the memories aren’t so explicit, and when she wakes up it’s because of her alarm ringing or  Lyanna  crying through the monitor. Her panic dissipates when Arya confirms that she’s in her own bedroom, safe in her apartment. Leaning her head back she breathes deep calming gulps of air, looking toward her alarm clock it’s only 6:10 am and she curses to herself. She knows there is no use trying to go back to sleep after such a vivid recollection, so grudgingly she climbs out of bed. Her body is covered in a thin sheen of sweat and as she slips out of her work clothes she pulls on a pair of spandex shorts and a running tank with a built in bra. She spares herself and glance in the bathroom mirror as she ties back the top half of her hair, there is a faint darkness on her cheek and the smallest of cuts but she can easily chalk it up to a nasty fall. She’s done it before.  The crack in her lip is crusted with blood but is mostly faint once the mess is wiped away.

 Zipping her credit card and house key into the pocket on the back of her shorts she walks out the door. Her eyes gazing briefly at Gendry’s door before she heads out of the building.

As her feet struck the hard pavement and she fell into a rhythm Arya gets lost in herself. 

When she was a little girl Arya was always following her older brothers, she trailed them around like an obedient pet; but they never seemed to mind, they showed her how to climb a tree and play different games. Her favorite was  it-tag , being so much smaller than them Arya was more fluid in her movements, she was faster and came to enjoy the fact that this was one game she was able to seriously compete in with them. During physical games, while they always took it easy on her, she was never able to overpower them; but when they played  running games  she was their equal. Running became easier for her as the years progressed, and she honed her skills to near perfection. 

At 16 she was already a track star in her own right, a distance runner who was also quick in a sprint, and after a few applications she was offered a scholarship to a premier preparatory school in Boston. It was her dreams come true, she wanted to travel and see the world and this was her first stepping stone. Her parents were so proud of her for the accomplishment and though they let her go with heavy hearts they supported her decision. While the city was strange and imposing at first Arya quickly fell into a routine. She spent most of her days at the school, practicing or studying, and when she wasn’t doing one of those things she chose to spend her free time alone. 

The first time she met Ramsay was at a dinner thrown for all the scholarship students to meet their patrons and benefactors of the school, the Bolton’s had a history of attendance with the school and donated substantial funds. Ramsay was a recent graduate and attended with his parents. He was 19. Arya was trying to find the bathroom when he caught her alone in a hallway, he had flirted with her and taunted her; he made her blush and retort harshly with sarcasm. Growing up in the shadow of beautiful Sansa no one ever fawned over horse-faced Arya the way they had her; ugly  horse-faced  Arya with her boyish build and unmannered brash attitude didn’t get the attention from boys that Sansa got. When he asked her to have dinner with him Arya assumed he was just like the rest of the boys she’d dealt with. Handsome and popular, flirting with her and tempting her so that they could make fun of her for responding, shooting her down and reminding her how unwanted she was.  She told him no.

Pushing her body as hard as she is able to Arya tries to feel the burn in her lungs, the strain in her leg muscles as she fights the war within herself. Blood rushing in her ears as her heart pounds in her chest Arya struggles to breathe, her throat begins to constrict and she can feel her stomach knotting. Slowing down she leans over and bends with her hands on her knees, dry heaving. 

 After regaining her breath she lifts her head and takes in where she is. The sun is now high in the sky and shining warmly on her exposed arms and legs, breathing out she stands and stretches her legs. When the tense muscles have relaxed and no longer twinge with irritation she sets a gentler pace back to the building. People are starting to come out into the streets, men and women bustling to work, children walking in groups to the corner bus stops, when she passes a parking lot she turns her head to see an auto shop. It’s the one where Gendry works; she remembers the logo and name from the stained work shirts he wears to and from. ‘I have to talk to him’ she thinks, he has to understand what happened and as much as she wanted to act like she could never speak to him again Arya knew that she didn’t want that. She wanted him to be around, a part of her life, and the though t  thrilled and terrified her. Last night he was so distraught but it wasn’t at her, it was for her. But where would she start? How could he possibly want to talk to her after all of that?

What he’d seen last night had been self-explanatory, he came out to make sure she was alright; but then he demanded answers to questions that she was n't  ready to give. Nothing about her relationship with Ramsay was easy, and trying to talk about it with anyone was hard. But Gendry wasn’t just someone; he had seen it first hand and now was expecting to understand it. Yet, Arya didn’t even understand her relationship with Ramsay, she didn’t understand how he could bring her to the point where she was scared to look men in the eye; she didn’t understand how just the sight of him could freeze the blood in her veins. How was she supposed to explain that to Gendry? The older man was battling his own demons; he didn’t need some child to unload her own darkness onto him. But she did owe him something. 

Passing a cluster of shops Arya catches a whiff of baked goods, hot and fresh, she knows where it’s coming from and she knows what she’s going to do. Entering the bakery she grabs her card from its secure pocket and orders. She’s less than half a block from home and the clock above the register reads 7:50, praying that she isn’t too late Arya quickly grabs her purchases and power walks back to the apartment building. 

Nervously she stands in front of his door, she knocked hesitantly but when she didn’t hear anything she thought that it was too late. Cursing under her breath she turns and starts to turn around, but the sound of metal scraping and moving has her spinning back around. 

He’s wearing a plain white tee shirt, his grease stained jeans telling her that he was probably getting ready when she knocked. His eyes instantly go to her cheek, and she lowers her eyes under the scrutiny; when his gaze sweeps up to her eyes she expects him to tell her to go away and never come back. But nothing comes out, he just stares at her. Awkwardly she lifts the bag of freshly baked doughnuts and the carrier with two cups of black coffee, “I thought you might need a pick-me-up…”

Nodding his head he gestures for her to come in, she follows and sets the bag and cardboard holder down onto the kitchen counter, he stands across from her and again Arya waits for him to say something, anything. Again he just stares at her, leaning back against the opposite counter with his fingers wrapped around the ledge.

“I wasn’t sure if you left for work yet…”

Sighing he pushes away from his spot and walks toward her, ‘this is it’ she thinks, ‘he’s going to kick me out’. Preparing for the worst Arya watches him expectantly, waiting, but then he reaches out for the cup of coffee nearest to him; his hand opening the white pastry bag and pulling out one of the crispy golden brown doughnuts. 

“I don’t have to be in until 9.” His voice is rough and she can hear the tiredness in it.

Nodding her head Arya takes the left cup of coffee and takes a sip, letting the heat set in her mouth for a moment before swallowing, “Gendry I’m really sorry about what happened. You should have never been involved in that, and I understand if you’re angry with me—“

“Arya, I told you this morning that I wasn’t mad…not at you anyway. I’m not going to push you to tell me what’s going on between you and him. Last night you told me not to judge you, and I’m not going to, I hope that one day you’ll be comfortable enough with me to tell me the truth; but for now I’m not going to press you.”

“You aren’t?”

“No…but if I see him lay a hand on you again I’m going to do something about it.”

That surprises her, the way his body tenses and the heat with which he looks at her is stunning; the way his eyes glimmer and the muscles in his arm contract with his movement, when he moves toward her Arya puts her coffee on the counter and just stares up at him in wonder. Questioning what’s happening between them, she expected him to bombard her with questions or at least tell her to never bother him again; when his arms wrap around her and his chin rests on the top of her head she thinks she’s dreaming again.

“Why?” She mumbles into his chest before reciprocating the embrace.

“Because I care about what happens to you Arya…you’re one of the only friends I’ve got.”

Friends, that was all they were. That was all they were ever going to be. This time it wasn’t some frat boy with an agenda, or a crush blowing her off after telling her that she wasn’t good enough for him; Gendry cared about her, but not in the way that she wished. He’d seen what happened with Ramsay and now she’s tainted goods, and Arya wants to cry again. Even when he wasn’t physically tormenting her or verbally tearing her down Ramsay had found a way to destroy another sliver of hope she’d gleaned.  

Gently pulling away from him Arya gives him a small smile, “I’m sorry for bothering you, I just wanted to…to make sure that we were ok.”

“You could never be a bother to me Arya…”

“Still, I’ll let you finish getting ready for work.”

Before she can make it fully out the door she hears him call out, “Hey Arya!” he trots behind her and smiles, “What are you doing Sunday?”

“Nothing really, probably just sitting around reading if I get done all my class work.  Ramsay is dropping  Lyanna  off on Monday.  Why?”

“The sox are playing the Angels on Sunday; you  wanna  come over for the game? I can order pizza and get some beer…what do you say?”

This time her smile is genuine and happy, “Sure.”

“Great, see you Sunday.”

And with that she leaves, more confused by Gendry than ever.

Why hadn’t he said more about what happened?


	7. Chapter 7, Gendry

Climbing into bed after witnessing Arya  with  Lyanna’s  father, Ramsay, in the hallway Gendry feels physically drained; but his mind is whirling and processing so rapidly that sleep evades him. Tossing around, at first thinking he just needs to find the right position for his body to sink into the mattress just right and he’ll find sleep. 

Turning onto his back he replays the events over in his mind like a film. The hard thumping he assumed had been the weight of her body hitting the door, the redness in her cheek when he came into the hallway, and the look in her eyes when she looked at him. That was the hardest facet of the night to comprehend; she had looked so scared and fragile when he first approached, frightened when he lifted his hand to try and turn her face so he could better examine the welt on her cheek, but then there was something else in the storming gray pools. It was as if she wasn’t just afraid because of the situation, she was afraid of him; but not in the sense that he would hurt her, she seemed to be afraid that he caught them, like two teens caught in bed by a parent. She looked ashamed.

Gendry has seen this in himself when confronted by the brutal honesty and self-reflection that Mott forced him to accept. When facing the reality of what he’d done, and who he had allowed himself to become Gendry felt the same thing in himself that he saw reflected in Arya’s eyes. Suddenly guilt wracks through him. He had practically yelled at Arya, asked her to explain herself to him; he had grabbed her, and hurt her.

Living on the streets he had been angry and destructive, the mistakes that he made were plentiful and when he was questioned it only provoked him to act out even further and it took a long painful time for him to get past it. It wasn’t the same with Arya, he knew that; but it wasn’t entirely different. Gendry hated himself for the path that he allowed himself to take, he felt ashamed when Mott saw through the exterior and pierced the core of his pain and made him embrace himself. And that was the shame that he recognized in Arya, he had finally seen the truth of her. The reason why she was so hesitant around him, why she had trouble looking him in the eye; he witnessed her in a time when she wasn’t in control and she was ashamed because the part of her that was most vulnerable had become exposed, the same say he had been when Mott came into his life.

After Arya came to him and he explained that he didn’t want her to feel pressured by him Gendry felt as if a weight had been lifted from his shoulders and while he was relieved that she came to him Gendry struggled to make it through his workload at the garage. Thankfully nobody said anything and actually allowed him to sleep on the office couch for a few hours while  Hot Pie and  Lommy  finished the car he had been working on. 

The work wouldn't have been too difficult to just grit his teeth and press through, since coming home he'd gotten used to the night terrors and vivid dreams keeping him from getting any semblance of satisfying sleep; but today was the day he finally started his sessions with the VA shrink. It had been mandatory once he recovered to meet with the man to be completely cleared, the man just asked random questions that Gendry couldn't understand the significance of in regards to his mental capacity and health, but after an hour the man requested they set up an appointment schedule after Gendry managed to get himself on a set schedule. So here he was, standing in front of the red brick building after having walked the two blocks from the bus stop. Taking a deep breath and clenching his teeth Gendry sighs heavily before opening the heavy glass door.

Reading the directory attached to the wall of the entranceway Gendry located the office he needed and walked up the steps of the well lit and sterile looking building. The walls were brick and the floors were a beige tile, large green plants in decorative pots were placed in corners but it all looked too artificial, too fake to be tru ly welcoming. At the top of the stairs there was a small landing and a door on either side, the one to the right had the name he was looking for scripted in gold font on a frosted glass window. Another breath to try and calm himself before he opens the door.

A slightly over weight  middle-aged blonde woman was sitting behind a small wooden desk, her acrylic nails loudly clacking along the keys of the computer in front of her as she read off of a piece of paper to her left, not even noticing his presence. Clearing his throat Gendry awkwardly puts his calloused hands into the dirty denim of his work jeans as he waits for the woman's acknowledgment. 

"Oh hello Dear, are you here for an appointment?" Her voice is light and the smile she beams up at him is genuine, helping some of the tension ebb out of his shoulders as Gendry confirms, "Um yes, Waters, Gendry Waters."

"Ah yes, Mr. Waters, he's waiting for you, just go on in." Another smile as she lifts her left hand and points to the only door in the office, a large dark wooden door. Taking a moment to look around the office he sees that this floor is hardwood with a large oriental rug taking up most of the center of the space while cushioned wood chairs sat around a matching coffee table covered with various reading materials. 

"Thanks." Gendry gives her a brief smile before walking into the adjoining room. 

"Ah Mr. Waters, good to see you again." The older  man was perched behind a large antique looking black desk, the walls around him were covered with bookshelves filled with varying sizes and colors of books. 

"Dr.  Yoren ." Gendry closes the door behind him.

"Well take a seat lad. Less you'd prefer to spend the next hour lurking in the doorway."

Gendry moves forward and sits in the overly large leather chair sat a few feet from the front of the desk, as he settles into the cushion he can't help but appreciate the surprising comfort of the worn leather seat. He spends a minute adjusting his legs and wonders if this shrink is going to read too much into his posture, is he going to assume that Gendry is aggressive if he crosses his arms? 

"Comfortable?" the doctor has a small grin on his face as he watches Gendry fidget.

"Sure." 

A minute passes between them,  Yoren  kicks his legs up onto his desk and balances his elbows on the arms of his chair while folding his fingers and peaking his pointer fingers over his lips as he just stares at Gendry. 

Under the uncomfortable scrutinizing eyes of the doctor Gendry swallows thickly, unsure of what to do. The first time they met was in the hospital just before Gendry was discharged and the man came, took him to the cafeteria and bought him a cup of coffee before sitting with him and asking random questions about if he knew his parents and why he joined the marines, why he ended up in the hospital, what he saw himself doing in the future. This was different, Gendry hadn't known what to expect and he didn't know how this was supposed to work.

"So, I assume that since you've taken the time to actually set up an appointment that there is reasoning behind it." Dr.  Yoren  finally breaks the silence.

"Uh yeah. You told me to make one  once I've gotten myself settled down and set on a schedule,  soo ...here we are."

He waits for the man to say something, to guide him but nothing meets him except more silence; what the hell, how was this supposed to help him 'recover'. 

"I got myself an apartment, it's pretty nice; and I got a job a few weeks ago, I've been working at a garage, Mott's it's on the outskirt of town but the business is good and it keeps me busy."

"That's good. Are you enjoying your work?"

"Yeah, I mean I don't have any formal training but I knew enough that it was able to get me the job. The owner seemed pretty reluctant to be honest, but seems pleased with the work I've done. And my co-workers are pretty decent, I've learned a lot since I've been there; Mott even thinks with a little more training I'll be ready to test for my certifications."

Yoren  just nods before locking eyes with Gendry, "Why was he reluctant to hire you?"

Gendry grits his teeth, he didn't understand why talking about his past before the military was pertinent in getting rid of the PTSD that he supposedly had, "Well I suppose it's  'cause  of the trouble I'd been in in the past, with the law and what-not."

Nodding his head more firmly  Yoren  continue s, "And why do you think that is, why he was reluctant about your past?"

Frustrated about having to answer these questions Gendry  rougly  answers, "Because not many people are too keen on hiring others with criminal history."

"Are you getting angry Gendry?"

Before thinking Gendry grunts out a 'yes', without even really understanding why he was getting so annoyed.

"I don't understand how this is supposed to help me."

"How what is supposed to help?"

"This, talking about my time before the military, how is this supposed to help with the nightmares and the flashbacks?"

"How do you think it's not going to help?"

"Because! Because they aren't caused by what happened before I joined, my past before the marines has  _nothing_   to do with what's happening now."

"Gendry it has everything to do with what's happening now." Standing up  Yoren  grabs a file off of his desk and walks around to lean against the front of his desk, extending his arm the older man offers the file to Gendry who hesitantly reaches out and takes it, "Well...go on then."

Opening the moderately thick folder it only takes reading the first document, his paperwork from the foster home, for Gendry to realize that this is the story of his life. Everything about him is in this file, things he has never told anyone, all the homes he was kicked out of and why, police reports and witness testimonies, after flipping through the first few pages of documents Gendry feels a sickness settle in his stomach, "This Gendry has everything to do with what you're dealing with now Gendry. It may not be the reason why you're having transitional issues and it may not be the stuff of your nightmares, but this is the root of your problem. You have so much anger, and resentment; you've lived so long with this pain that you've bottled up that you let it mold you into what you are and  the tragic events you suffered while overseas only manifested themselves into the problems you're having now with your adjustment to civilian life because now you're being forced into a world where you aren't following orders every second of everyday, you no longer have the luxury of allowing yourself to be used as a force and it terrifies you to be back in touch with reality. You want to know what else that file tells me? "

Gendry just clenches his jaw and stares at the man, "It tells me that you aren't the person that file paints you to be. It tells me that you have been pushed down and kicked about your entire life and instead of succumbing to it and letting it destroy you, you let the anger take over and decided that if that's what they saw you as that was what you would become. I know you're hesitant and you don't understand how this is going to help, but you need to trust me Gendry. You need to trust me, and let me help you."

Climbing up the stairs to his apartment Gendry feels as if he’s dragging himself toward heaven, imaging the caress of his sheets and the cool darkness of his room wrapping around him.  Once Dr.  Yoren  finally managed to get Gendry to open up Gendry was forced to confront things that he buried down so deeply he never thought they would face the light of day again. He still didn't understand how talking about everything from his time in the foster system and his criminal background was going to help him overcome the problems he was having but the Doc was right, Gendry needed to trust him. 

Trust. It was such a foreign concept to him outside of his military life, he only ever had one person outside of his unit that he trusted and now they were gone. Flicking his eyes across the hall to Arya's door the corner of his mouth perks up as he makes a snap decision. Walking  to Arya’s door Gendry knocks and waits , he can hear the soft music filtering through the door so he knows she’s there.  If he was going to start learning to trust he should probably offer it, and there was just something about Arya Stark.

Seeing the top of her head piled with her unruly curls pulled into a tiny bun, a pencil tucked behind one ear Gendry laughs at her appearance  as she props open the door , “Hey” she greets softly, staring up at him through her thick eyelashes.

"Hey, I uh-I just wanted to make sure we were still on for Sunday."

"Yeah, Ramsay has  Lyanna  until Monday morning so it will be nice getting out of the apartment for a while. Do you want me to pick anything up?" Gendry can't help but clench his jaw at the mention of Ramsay.  'I'm going to have to stop doing that, my jaws starting to hurt' he thinks to himself as he loosens his tensed muscles.

"No, I've got it covered."

"Ok, well great. I'll see you Sunday." 

Once he washed the  dried  sweat and grease from his body Gendry slipped into a pair of athletic shorts, and after a quick meal containing the remainder of the leftover pizza in his fridge he was jumping into the comforting embrace of his bed; thankful that it was the weekend and that he was going to be able to , hopefully,  make up his sleep deprivation. 

Saturday after waking early, having gone to bed so prematurely, Gendry felt refreshed and the idea of spending some time with Arya helped his mood; getting dressed he headed out to get the supplies he was going to require. He decided to get frozen pizzas after concluding that the shop he normally would have ordered from was going to be busy and delayed due to the game, after finding something suitable and keeping Arya’s  surprisingly substantial appetite and his own in mind  Gendry gets 2 pizzas and an extra case of beer. 

Finally the announcers were talking about key player statistics and exceptional plays from recent games while making predictions as Gendry is pulling the first of the heated pizzas out of the oven. 

“Shit…” The top of the pizza is toasted, near black in fact, and he doesn’t have time to order anything now.

He put the plain cheese in first as a courteously to Arya  since he wasn't sure of her topping preference and he only had one pan to cook the pie on , but now he has nothing to offer her . Opening his fridge all he sees is a variety of takeout containers and some pre-mixed protein shakes  and Gendry begins to rethink his adapted eating habits since leaving the marines. While trying to decide the best course of action a knock sounds from outside the door, praying that it’s some stranger who managed to make it into the building Gendry opens the door. 

Arya is wearing an oversized light gray tee shirt with a too big neckline that hangs dangerously against the edge of her shoulder and a pair of black leggings that stop mid-calf; taking in her appearance and the smile on her face Gendry forgets all about the disastrous attempt at what he considered cooking. 

“Hey.” She looks up at him awkwardly fidgeting with her hands.

“Hey…come in.” Holding the door open for her Gendry moves back to the kitchen as she enters  and removes her sneakers , he rubs self-consciously at the back of her neck when she sees the burnt pizza sitting on the counter  as she walks into the kitchen behind him.

“Yeah…I’m not really used to using the oven so…”

“It’s fine, just a little crunchy. No big deal Gendry.”

With burnt pizza on paper plates and cold beers opened on the coffee table in front of them Arya and Gendry settle into the couch as the first pitch is thrown.

Their conversation is light and infrequent due to both of them being so absorbed in the game, Gendry found that Arya definitely knew more about the sport than he gave her credit for and like any true Boston native she was especially well versed in the sox and all of the players. During the commercials they talk about random  plays and personal accounts of previous games sometimes they discuss how work and school are going, he asks about  Lyanna , and true to his word Gendry avoids asking her more about her relationship with Ramsay even though the desire to pepper her with questions of how and whys burns strongly inside of him.

Since he’d met Arya the young woman drew Gendry in, the rare times he was able to get her to smile were genuine and brilliant. He’s made women smile before, but with her it was different, they were honest and not given lightly or out of flirtation and fakeness. The seriousness about Arya was mesmerizing, the way she was with  Lyanna  and how everything in her life seemed to revolve around the child lightened his heart. Her beautiful steel gray eyes and how they were so expressive and lively, the way her hair fell in wild waves while she was able to make them look beautiful and effortless. 

The way her body would look when she came back from one of her runs, her chest heaving and the sweat highlighting the slight muscles in her stomach and back; he dreamed about the long lean curves of her legs and woke on more than one occasion having imagined them wrapped around his waist. Pulling him to her as he explored every inch of her body, Gendry groans at the thought of the beautiful woman.

Two beers into the night with a light rosy tint to her cheeks Arya asks if she can get some water, she refuses to let Gendry get up and get if for her so after some direction as to the whereabouts of his cups Arya sways slightly when she stands. ‘She’s tipsy’ he realizes.

“Hey, Gendry?” She calls from the sink.

“Yeah?”

“You said before that you understood what it was like to not be able to explain you r  past to people…is that, is that why you aren’t asking me about Ramsay?” She’s walking back to the couch now and stands staring at him as she takes a sip of her water.

When she flops down into the cushions of the couch Gendry turns his body towards her, “Well yeah…it hurts to think about some of the things I’ve lived through, things that I’ve done and that I allowed to happen around me; in the military I saw things that…things that I still don’t understand or want to talk about, and I know what it’s like to be trying to move on from those experiences, hell Arya, I’m still trying to make up for the things that have happened in the past. So yeah, like I said, I’m not going to push you into telling me anything if you don’t want to. You said you’re fine and that I should trust you, and I believe you. If you say its ok for now then you’re ok.”  His session with Dr.  Yoren  coaxing him to try and tap into untouched emotions and explain himself to her while trying to understand it in his own mind.

“Thanks Gendry….”

“For what?”

Shrugging her shoulders she takes another sip of water, her eyes returning to the television, “for not being like everyone else.”

His eyes take her in for a moment, the relaxed expression on her face and the slight rise and fall of her chest that lets him know that she is aware of his gaze upon her. The flush in her cheeks is slightly more noticeable now, especially with her sitting in the path of light from the overhead kitchen fixture, the beams illuminating every feature. As she brings the glass of water to her lips he turns back to the TV, on his small couch with only about half of a cushion separating them it would be all too easy to reach out and run his hand along the back of her neck pulling her to him; replacing the glass with his own lips. 

Rushed voices from the announcers draw Gendry’s attention, he wasn’t even aware that the Red Sox had already come up to bat for the inning, trailing in bottom of the 7th; an Angel walks to the plate and Arya and him both scoot closer to the edge of the couch, she brings the water up to her lips once more. Holding their breath Arya lowers the cup but keeps a tight grip on the glass keeping it only a few inches in front of her.

As the pitch comes in the world seems to slip into slow motion as the crack of the ball connecting with the ball rings through the speakers, the white blur of it flying through the stadium caught by the cameras…the runners on base sprint aggressively and the batter is rounding first, the player in the outfield jumps with his arm extended; and as if magnetized the ball falls directly into the outstretched glove. Quickly launching the ball to the catcher they get one out, the ball flies through the air to the third baseman who catches the last runner trying to slide in to the plate, another out.

Hopping up, both Gendry and Arya throw their hands into the air, hooting and cheering their praise to the Gods for the amazing play and saving grace that the Angels didn’t pull their lead ahead. Turning to look at Arya with a smile on his face Gendry immediately feels heat pooling in his cheeks, among other places. 

During their emphatic cheering and jumping   some of  Arya’s water had spilled out onto her shirt revealing to him that she wasn’t wearing a bra underneath the moderately thin cloth, the now defined swell of  one breast  prominently displayed through the material. Her nipple isn' t entirely visible but Gendry swallows thickly taking in the small circular outline of the hardened nub , hastily he averts his eyes; looking over her head and into the kitchen.

“Umm Arya…you—your shirt is wet.”

Glancing down at her as she looks down at her own chest, “Oh…I guess that’s what I get for never wearing a bra.”

Coughing nervously Gendry tries so hard to keep his sight trained on anything but her he can practically feel the struggle between his brain and the muscles in his eyes, “Do you want to borrow a shirt or something?”

“Umm that’s ok; I can just go over and change quick…”

“Really it’s fine, and that way you don’t miss anymore of the game.” 

“Ok.” And suddenly the thought of Arya wearing nothing but one of his oversized shirts invades his mind. Her toned legs trailing up until the tops of her thighs and naked bum become concealed by the bulk of his massive shirt on her slender frame. Arya with her hair fanned around her head in wild curls as she arches and writhes underneath him, his hand trailing up her smooth skin lifting the cotton of his shirt as he…”Gendry?”

Snapping out of his fantasy his eyes dart to see confused gray staring up at him, “Yeah?”

“A shirt?”

“Oh, right. Here…” leading her back to his room he flips the light on and pulls a plain black  v-neck  out from one of the dresser drawers and tosses it to her. 

Walking back out into the living room Gendry can feel the uncomfortable building of his lust and as he flops onto the couch he takes a long draught of his beer, trying to think of grandmothers in bathtubs and fuzzy puppies, anything to keep the image of a topless Arya in his bedroo m from forming in  his mind.  'Christ, it's been too long...I'm like a teenager again'.

Light footsteps come behind him and he turns his head to see her walking to the kitchen counter to drape her wet shirt over one of the stools, he knew his shirt was going to be big on her but he laughed at how ridiculous it actually looked. The hem of the shirt fell just above her knee and the cotton basically swallowed her making the poor girl look like a black version of the stay-puff marshmallow man  after gastric bypass surgery , the deep v came down tantalizingly between her breasts and the wider neck exposed the beginnings of her shoulders.

Settling back onto the couch Arya picks up his beer and takes a swig before returning her eyes to the screen. They sit surrounded by the sounds of the game and the announcers, neither comfortable being the first to speak. When the 8 th  inning ends and they prepare for the 9 th  Gendry gets up to grab another beer, and Arya takes her glass back to fill under the faucet. 

“Gendry?”

“ Hm ?”  Keeping his back to her he pretends to rummage through the fridge, hoping that they won’t have to make eye contact in the clear light of the kitchen. Finally he grabs a bottle from the fridge and cracks the top off, letting the cool liquid hydrate his dry mouth.

“They’re just boobs you know…It’s not like I have much to accidentally show off  anyway .”

Choking back the beer in his mouth his jaw drops and he just stares at her, he was expecting Arya to be as uncomfortable as he was; though for different reasons, but to hear that come out of her mouth was a shock, “W—what?”

She stands against the counter with the water casually lifted in front of her, “Your face is bright red; it’s not that big of a deal. Besides you hardly saw anything…and I know you’ve been in the military for the past few years but I’m sure you’ve had marine bunkmates with bigger tits than mine…the sight of my mosquito bite boobs shouldn’t send you into frenzy.”

And that’s when he realizes that she’s teasing him, “Oh my God Arya!”

The laugh that echoes through the room is loud and hysterical as she takes in the darkened blush that spreads from his cheeks to his neck, “You—your face! HA Gendry you should see the look on your face!” Her words hardly come out comprehensible through the wheezing of her laughter.

“It’s not funny Arya!” More laughter peels through her as she takes in the seriousness of his face.

“Yes it is!”

Taking her water she shakes with the residual laughter as she walks back to the couch, after another sip of his beer Gendry can’t help but smile at the infectious nature of her laugh. By the time he rejoins her on the couch the giggles are done and just a small smile remains on her lips, “Seriously Gendry, please don’t be embarrassed.”

“I’m not!” He responds quickly, “I just…don’t want you to think that I was I don’t know, taking advantage of the situation.”

“You could hardly see anything! Look, I never really had to worry about bras all that much seeing as I wasn’t…blessed, in that department. And with the exception of when I was exclusively breast feeding or days when I pump I pretty much never wear a bra, but if it makes you feel any better this isn’t even the worst accident I’ve had while not wearing one . It sort of comes with the territory. ”

At least she didn’t notice the erection that he began to sport at the thoughts his mind created of her, and it seemed as if she was far from embarrassed by the situation so Gendry felt relief wash throughout him, “Really?”

“Yeah…remind me to tell you about the time at the Mocking Bird when I pretty much flashed my boss after you’ve recovered.”

“Oh I will definitely have to remember to ask about that.”

By the time the game has ended the red sox were up by 2 runs and the cheering and occasional curses from the two of them hung in the air, empty beer bottles littered the coffee table, and the two of them were sitting back in the couch excitedly watching the replays of the game. When Arya stands and starts grabbing the empty glass bottles and paper plates his hand swats her away and he tells her that he’ll take care of it when she leaves.

“Thanks for inviting me over Gendry.” She bends, and instinctively he turns his head up toward her.

Intending to give the older man a quick thank you kiss on the cheek Arya pulls back sharply, as if burned, when their lips touch instead. Deep blue meets steel and their  breathing  mingle s  together as they try to process what the other is thinking. 

The electric tingle that shot down Gendry’s spine at just the teaser of her against his mouth was enough to leave him willing to beg for more, with careful slowness he reaches his hand to the back of her head, still hovering only a few inches  above  his. 

He’d thought about doing this for so long, of claiming her lips as his own; and after watching that bastard  press  himself against her it only fueled his desire for Arya. Gendry knew it wasn’t rational, and that he should have felt anything other than blind jealous rage, but the thought of someone else kissing Arya was bad enough; the idea of someone forcing her made his blood boil. 

Gendry knew that after witnessing her ex’s treatment of her in the hallway that he should be treating her like glass. But that wasn’t what she wanted, and it wasn’t what he wanted to give her. Those delectable full pouty lips didn’t deserve such barbaric treatment, her body shouldn’t have been groped and tainted by Ramsay’s possessive hands; she deserved passion fueled kisses, and caring firm hands teasing the pleasure out of her…

Her hair feels like fine silk as his fingers gently intertwine with the strands; with a light application of pressure those parted pink lips get closer, “Gendry…”

“Arya.” And with the breathy exhale of her name their lips are meeting once more. 

At first the touch is tentative and light, the movement of her lips against his is careful. With his free hand he runs his fingers up her neck until it cups the corner of her jaw, his thumb rubbing soft strokes across her unmarred cheek. She breathes out harshly through her nose and the pressure against his mouth increases, parting and moving with more urgency against him. Moving slowly Gendry sits back, Arya carefully climbing over his lap to keep their connection; one small hand running behind his neck to grasp at the shortly shorn hairs while the other wraps around his bicep to steady her movements. 

Leaning her head back Arya stares down at him with hooded eyes, her mouth open as she breathes heavily. Expecting her to punch him, to scream at him for taking advantage of her in the wake of her encounter with Ramsay Gendry closes his eyes and prepares for the worst. He told her that he was going to give her time to let her become comfortable with him, now he took advantage; just like he previously claimed to be trying to avoid. She was going to run and never come back.

Instead she once more presses her lips to his, this time her tongue pushes insistently into his mouth fighting his own for dominance inside his mouth. They dance together, tongues flicking against one another in between full presses of her plush lips against his own tender flesh. The hand from her hair starts to fall, tracing down the detectable line of her spine, and she arches into his touch her hips rocking down inadvertently pressing her center against his groin. Gendry tries to suppress the groan, his head leaning back into the couch and he bites his lip staring up at her once more. 

In all of his dreams he never thought the reality would compare, but now he had Arya hovering over him her lips swollen and her face flushed with lust. From the angle she sits over top of him the front of his shirt billows downward and he can see the tempting pale flesh at the tops of her breasts, the barest glimpse of smooth rounded skin taunting him.

With his hand in the small of her back it’s easy for Gendry to manipulate the young woman, turning her slightly as he adjusts his hips until he can lean forward, pressing her back into the seating of the couch while he moves to settle over her. Instantly taking advantage of their new position Gendry swoops down to lavish her long neck with light dotting caresses, her thighs tighten around his before she lifts her legs to sit more comfortably around his hips.

Groaning as he feels Arya shift under him Gendry realizes the heavily compromising implication of their position, and the guilt begins to overtake the sensations of finally having Arya against him.  He shouldn't be doing this, not now, not when they haven't even discussed what it was between them, he didn't know if she felt the same want for him that he had for her; maybe this was her just letting him have what he wants because she feels she owed it to him after everything that had happened. As she softly moans into his mouth he doesn't want to let himself believe that that's the case, but he needs to stop before he lets himself loose complete control. He wanted this, but he wanted her wholly and without doubt.

“Arya…you should…probably…go.” He says between kisses and he can feel her nodding her head in agreement. 

Drawing back and looking down at her Gendry sees her biting her bottom lip between her teeth and his thumb carefully pulls the appendage free, “I don’t think you realize how sexy it is when you do that…”

Flashing him a shy smile, she presses her head back into the cushion beneath her and closes her eyes as she breathes out, “I should go.”

Reluctantly Gendry moves off of her, standing and helping her lift off of the couch. They walk to the door and as he opens it she grabs her still damp tee from the kitchen stool, as she hesitantly walks toward the hallway she stops and looks up at him, at first nothing comes out but he can see the wheels turning in her mind so instead of waiting for her to think of what to say he leans down and presses his lips lightly to hers.

Smiling she walks across the hall  before turning to Gendry who is leaning  in the frame of his doorway watching as she unlocks the door ,  “Night Gendry.”

“Goodnight Arya.”


End file.
